Secrets Unbound
by seffydude
Summary: Stargate SG1 meets The X-Files as the SGC comes under investigation by Mulder and Scully and a rogue agent within the NID could spell disaster for the entire planet.
1. 08:10 J Edgar Hoover Building

**Secrets Unbound.**

Disclaimer.

The following story is a work of fan fiction by a fan of both Stargate SG1 and The X-Files. Stargate SG1 is owned by Sony/MGM and Gekko Productions, The X-Files is owned by 20th Century Fox and Ten Thirteen Productions. I am in no way affiliated to any of the above production companies and have not been paid, nor do I expect to receive any payment, for the story 'Secrets Unbound'.

I do it for love!

_08:10. J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington D.C._

As the elevator doors slowly opened, Agent Dana Scully looked through at the short darkened corridor beyond. The steel shelf lined corridor had become a regular feature now, this being her fifth year on assignment to the X-Files, as regular a feature as the basement office she shared with her partner Fox Mulder.

The red haired FBI Agent made her way down the short corridor and followed a right hand bend at the bottom. A door with a frosted glass panel was on her left and she opened it without knocking.

The office beyond was in its usual cluttered state. Various book shelves lined the walls and were full of books on such diverse subjects as UFOs, Ghosts, just about every kind of paranormal phenomenon that could be thought of. She had even found a book once on the Deli Lama and still couldn't figure out how you could get an Esoteric scientific study. As usual, the most striking feature of the office managed to grab her attention, a poster on the wall showing a hazy picture of a flying saucer and, underneath in big bold letters, the words 'I WANT TO BELIEVE'. Underneath the book shelves, the poster and various other photos that adorned the walls were the steel filing cabinets that held the X-Files, a repository of all the wierd and outlandish cases that the FBI hierarchy had labelled as paranormal and, therefore, worthy of no further investigation.

Behind a desk in the centre of the room, a desk full of books, paperwork and the ever present slide projector, sat Agent Mulder. Standing six foot two tall and with his brown hair brushed back, Mulder could easilly be described as having boyish good looks. The jacket of his regulation suit was hanging over the back of his chair and he was sitting with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up and his tie loose around his collar.

As usual he had heard the thick heels of Scully's shoes in the corridor outside, so he was ready with a smile and a greeting of "Morning!"

"Morning." Replied Scully with a brief smile.

Mulder saw that she was wearing a light blue skirt suit with a white blouse. He couldn't help noticing that her clothes accented the copper tones of her hair, hair that was styled to show off her lean, high cheek-boned face to its best.

Blue eyes twinkled as Scully regarded Mulder lounging in his chair, reading a paper with the headline 'Anaphylactic Shock From Bee Stings On The Rise.' "Busy?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Mulder gave her a sardonic smile. "It was either this or the Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon."

At that moment the telephone rang. The two Agents looked at it and then back at each other. "That's incredible!" Said Mulder. "You do it every time." He looked at the lcd readout on the phone and saw that it said 'outside call'. He picked up the receiver. "FBI's most unwanted, Mulder speaking!" He paused for a moment, listening to the caller and then said "Frohike, not heard from you guys for a while."

At the mention of the Lone Gunman's shortest member, Scully's eyes rolled heavenward.

Mulder grinned at his partners reaction while listening to the conspiracy theorist on the other end of the phone. "No, can't say that I have..! Colorado..? Sounds like a job for the IRS. What does this have to..! Ok, I'll swing by this afternoon." He glanced up at Scully. "I'll see if she's free." He said with an impish grin. Unheard by Scully, there was a click as the phone line went dead. "She's wearing a blue skirt..!" He almost fell off his chair trying to avoid a ballistic book. "I'm kidding!" He yelled with a laugh.


	2. 10:15 am Cheyenne Mountain Complex

_10:15. Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorado._

Colonel Jack O'Neill made his way over to the metal stairs in the SGC control room, nodding in greeting as he passed Sergeant Smith who was sat at his usual position near the control console. "All quiet?" He asked.

"SG5 are overdue a report, but only by a half hour or so. Other than that..!" The bespectacled Sergeant shook his head.

"Well," said the tall, grey haired Colonel, "don't leave the building." He made his way up the stairs and made his way down the semi-circular corridor at the top, returning the salute of one of the guards as he passed.

Jack O'Neill was a tall, lean and surprisingly fit man for someone in his mid forties. A career serviceman, he had joined the U.S. Air Force straight from graduation and, after serving the regulation time at the Air Force Academy, had worked his way through the officer ranks to his present position, Colonel and commander of SG1, the pre-eminent off world team of Stargate Command.

His length of service had been broken only once, when the death of his son had lead to the darkest time of his life, the inevitable break-up of his marriage and early retirement. His retirement didn't last that long however, as the Air Force soon re-activated his service and gave him command of the first team to go through the newly opened Stargate. Initially, he only agreed to the post because he thought of it as a suicide mission, but if the truth was now to come out, he hadn't looked back since.

The wall of the corridor he was in disappeared to be replaced by a large window with a universal map embossed on its surface. O'Neill looked through the window into General Hammond's office and saw the Texan General sitting behind his desk, the red Presidential phone clamped to his ear. At that moment the General looked up and beckoned him into the office.

"We are aware of the situation sir." Said Hammond indicating for O'Neill to sit. "Of course sir, yes! We'll contact the Tok'ra and see what they have to say..! I will! Have a good day Mr President!"

O'Neill watched as the General replaced the red telephone in its cradle. "Trouble?"

"Not really." Replied the bald and stocky General.

"Oh," replied O'Neill raising his eyebrows, "want some?"

"Jack, there's only two reasons why you would be in the SGC on your day off. Either the fish, in the entire state of Colorado, aren't biting or you got trouble."

"No dedicated work ethic then?" Said O'Neill with a brief shake of his head. When General Hammond simply returned his gaze, he continued. "I got a phone call this morning, at home sir."

"Anybody I know?" Asked Hammond.

"Maybourne!"

The Generals eyes sparkled as he raised his head slightly. "Maybourne, I might have known. What does he want?" He asked as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

"Actually sir, if what he says pans out, he wants to help us."

"Help us!" Said Hammond with a snort of derision. "And what does he want for his 'help'?"

"He wants us off his back!" O'Neill raised his eyebrows again. "Me, off his back."

"And just how is he proposing to help us?"

"He wouldn't say. He wants to meet to discuss it."

"Where?"

"O'Malley's, Downtown."

"What's your take on it?"

"I think he's serious. He told me to bring Teal'c along as a measure of his good faith."

"Teal'c?" Replied Hammond with genuine surprise. After a moments consideration he looked up at O'Neill. "Ok, go see what he wants. Report back to me when you're done!"


	3. 13:10, O'Malley's Bar, Colorado Springs

_13:10. O'Malley's Bar, Colorado Springs._

In spite of it being the early afternoon, there were quite a few patrons in O'Malley's Bar in Downtown Colorado Springs. O'Neill and Teal'c saw Maybourne, sitting alone in a booth in the corner of the bar, as soon as they entered and they made their way over.

The ex-Air Force Colonel and NID double agent looked up as the two men arrived and stood at the end of the table. "Jack, Teal'c." He nodded warily in greeting.

The daunting Jaffa warrior, dressed in civilian clothes and wearing a Red Sox baseball cap to hide the gold emblem on his forehead, leaned forward slightly with his hands held behind his back. "The presence of the Tau'ri in this building will not stop me from killing you!"

A look of concern crossed Maybourne's bearded face. "That wouldn't be very wise though, would it, killing me before you find out what I've got for you?"

"Such things rarely concern me." Said the Jaffa in a dreadfully quiet voice.

The look of concern turned to one of fear. "Jack!"

O'Neill grinned but put a hand on Teal'c's shoulder and indicated for him to sit. "What do you want Maybourne?" He asked as he sat down next to Teal'c.

"You and Hammond have got real problems coming your way Jack, big problems! Now, I can help you, but I want some assurances first."

"No promises!" Said O'Neill.

Maybourne continued regardless. "I want you, Teal'c and the rest of the SGC off my back. I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for you. I want your word on it Jack."

"I'm more inclined to let Teal'c rip your heart out of your chest." Said O'Neill in a quiet tone of voice that seemed to amplify the threat. "As far as I'm concerned, you got nothing to interest me."

Maybourne tossed a blue floppy disk onto the table. "How sure are you?" He paused to let the implications of that simple question sink in. "The information on that disk is encrypted. By the time you've broken the encryption code, the SGC's fan will be well and truly clogged. What you have to decide now is, do you put a personal vendetta over the security of this country, let alone the SGC?"

O'Neill looked at the disk and then back at Maybourne. "What's on the disk?"

"Information that you and Hammond will find somewhat disturbing." He leaned forward onto the table and looked from Teal'c back to O'Neill. "Here's the play! You and Teal'c take the disk and leave. I'll finish my drink and leave in a few minutes. Once I'm sure I'm not being followed I'll contact you and give you the encryption code, then we all go our separate ways safe in the knowledge that we did our part in avoiding a national disaster."

O'Neill thought for a moment. "Ok!" He said and reached for the disk. Just as he put his hand on the disk, Maybourne's hand landed on top of his.

"Your word, Jack!"

O'Neill looked down at Maybourne's hand and then up into his eyes. Maybourne quickly pulled his hand away as O'Neill scowled at him. "I don't trust you Maybourne!"

Maybourne put on a sad face and held his hands out to the side. "Now that hurts Jack. After all that we've been through together."

O'Neill picked up the disk, looked at it for a moment and then held it up beside his face. "If what's on this disk is genuine and helps with these problems you say are coming, then I'll give you my word. If it's just another crock, you have my word I'll make you the SGC's number one priority."

"That's all I'm asking for Jack." Said Maybourne with satisfaction. He watched as the two men opposite him stood up to leave. "Bye guys!"

"So that you are aware O'Neill," said Teal'c as he stepped out of the booth, "I am considering leaving the SGC!"

"For how long?" Asked O'Neill, glancing back at Maybourne.

"An hour. Maybe two!"


	4. 13:30, Offices of The Lone Gunman, Washi...

_13:30. Offices of The Lone Gunman, Washington D.C._

The door of The Lone Gunman conspiracy magazine was opened after the second knock by a tall, thin, long haired man wearing black rimmed glasses, baggy jeans and a scruffy green coloured t-shirt with the legend 'Commando 101' in faded olive letters across the chest. He ushered Mulder and Scully into the gloomy interior of the office and quickly checked outside to see if anyone else was hanging around.

The inside of The Lone Gunman office was as far removed from a press office as you could get. Computer hardware, most of it looking as though it had been patched up from different systems, covered virtually all of the available table space. Various coloured LED lights winked and blinked in the gloom, looking like a thin star field seen in early evening through a polluted sky.

The man who had let them in was called Langley and he turned to Mulder as he led them through the office. "Hey Mulder, wanna hear a tape of President Clinton and 'that woman' in the Whitehouse? If you listen real careful, you can hear the British Prime Minister giving him instructions in the background."

A wry grin crossed Mulder's face. "Where are the guys?"

"In back," Langley turned to Scully with a grin, "the conference suite!"

The only difference between the main office and the conference suite was that the conference suite contained Frohike, a short stocky man with a balding head, a pony tail, wide glasses and a leather jacket, and Biers, a lean smartly dressed and well manicured man and the only member of The Lone Gunman not to wear glasses.

"Hey Mulder!" Said Biers with a cursory nod.

"And the beautiful Agent Scully! Always a pleasure." Said Frohike with a grin.

"Frohike!" Said Scully in an amused tone of voice.

"Ok Frohike, we're here! What you got?" Asked Mulder eyeing a police scanner in amongst the wreckage of computer equipment.

"What do you know about the Cheyenne Mountain complex in Colorado?"

"Not much." Replied Mulder turning his attention back to the three conspiracy theorists. "It's an old nuclear missile silo, right? I think they decommissioned it and gave it over to some space research people."

It was Langley who answered. "Yeah, the Air Force has got it, doing some deep space radar telemetry research." He turned around and picked something up off a desk and handed it to Mulder. "Check this out!"

Mulder looked at the picture. It showed a Megallanic cloud formation in different hues and colours, surrounded by a star field.

"We pulled that off a cable transmission to the Astronomical Society at UCLA."

"What am I looking at?" Asked Mulder handing the photograph to Scully.

"Hopefully, you're looking at the code at the bottom right of the photo's white frame." Said Biers.

Scully held the photo so that Mulder could see the sequence of letters and numbers at the bottom. He also noticed the date and saw that the picture was almost a week old. "What about it?"

"Well, whenever a research facility takes a picture of something under study, all the pictures are labelled with a code specific to the location from where the image was taken. That photo wasn't taken at Cheyenne Mountain, that's the code for Aracebo down in Puerto Rico."

"When did you get this?" Asked Scully.

"The day after it was taken." Replied Langley. "The thing is, it takes time to get a image of this clarity. The only way to get a quality image like this, that fast, is to have a direct link between Cheyenne Mountain and Aracebo."

"I thought the Aracebo station was shut down?" Asked Mulder.

"We thought the same," said Langley, "so we did some digging. Check this out!"

Mulder took the offered file and opened it. Inside were various charts and details covering such things as logistical supplies, power usage and the necessary funding to pay for it all. Mulder whistled his surprise.

Pleased at Mulder's response, Frohike nodded and grinned. "That's a lot of tax dollars for a research station. But the best is yet to come. Bring any spare socks? Then hold on to the ones you've got."

"We've had an associate of ours down in Colorado keep an eye on the Cheyenne Mountain complex." Said Biers. "He said that, in the past week, they've made three deliveries, all unknown cargo, in unmarked trucks. Points for guessing where the deliveries went?" He raised an eyebrow at Mulder expectantly.

"Really?" Said Mulder as if he had read Biers mind.

"Nulles Air Force base!" Proclaimed Biers.

Mulder turned to Scully and grinned. "Area 51!"

"Dreamland!" Sighed Langley.

"Ever been to Colorado, Scully?" Asked Mulder brightly.

"You're not serious?" Said Scully, even though she already knew the answer. "Just how are we supposed to get in there?"

"That's where we come in." Said Biers.

"You're going to love this!" Said Frohike.

Scully wasn't so sure.


	5. 16:10 Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorad...

_16:10. Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorado._

General Hammond walked into the briefing room and motioned for Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter to remain seated.

Sitting next to Colonel O'Neill, Major Samantha carter leaned on the table expectantly while Hammond prepared to begin the briefing. Blonde haired and blue eyed, Major Carter couldn't be further removed from the image of the dumb blonde so commonly associated with other beautiful women who shared her characteristics. The entire Stargate project would have ground to a halt if it hadn't been for her equations to counter stellar drift and her designing programs for the dialling computer.

On the opposite side of the table, sitting next to the impassive Teal'c, sat the last member of SG1. Daniel Jackson, avid student of all things archaeological and linguistic, was dwarfed by the size of the renegade Jaffa warrior. Daniel had also been present on the historic first trip through the Stargate with O'Neill. It was he who had deciphered the ancient language that gave them their first gate address to Abidos and it was he who translated the Abidos cartouche and got that original team back home again. It was also widely known never to call him a Geek.

"I apologise for being late SG1, I just got of the phone with the Joint Chiefs. Needless to say they are taking this threat to our security very seriously and to say they are concerned would be an understatement. Colonel, has there been anymore contact with Maybourne?"

"Rat up a drainpipe sir!" Replied O'Neill while lounging back in his chair. "I think we should consider the possibility that he's left the country."

Daniel Jackson leaned forward and held up a pen to get some attention. "Erm, sorry, but the last I heard we'd had an unconfirmed threat to our security, has something changed?"

O'Neill tossed his pen onto the table. "See, it's not just me that doesn't get my memo's."

"Basically Dr Jackson," Daniel did a double-take at O'Neill before turning his attention on the General, "one of the NID's agents has gone rogue and taken some pieces of alien technology with him. He's also managed to hack into our live feed to UCLA and downloaded some images with the original coding still in place and passed them on to parties outside the fringe. Damage limitation protocols have already been set in motion for the right wing fringe elements; we can even cover ourselves with the downloaded images. The alien technology, however, is a different matter. The Pentagon are very concerned that they will end up on the black market, but the biggest concern is if the rogue agent should go public with them and expose the SGC. Should the existence of the Stargate get out, well, I don't need to tell you about the consequences for this country."

"Do we know what's been taken?" Asked Daniel.

"Not as yet! We're running inventory checks, both here and at Area 51, to ensure that none of our artefacts are missing. But we have no way of knowing what kind of inventory the NID had, so finding out what has gone missing is going to be virtually impossible."

"Has there been any demands made?" Asked Carter.

"Not yet, but that's not to say that none are forthcoming. We should also cons..!" The shrill ringing of a telephone interrupted the general and he picked up the phone. "Hammond!" He paused for a moment before offering the phone to O'Neill. "Colonel!"

O'Neill looked at the rest of his team before turning back to the General. "You're kidding!" He said in an incredulous tone. "How does he know?" He took the phone and was speaking into it before it had touched his ear. "Maybourne?" He looked down at the table while listening to the man talking. "Are you sure?" He paused for a moment. "If this is some kind of stunt!" O'Neill looked up at the General. "What else?" Again he paused before handing the phone to Hammond without saying another word. He turned to the rest of his team, a concerned look on his face. "Apparently, while the NID were running their operations through the Antarctic gate, they managed to get their grubby little hands on a mature Goa'uld. Seems they've gone and lost it again."

"There's a live Goa'uld out there?" Said Daniel in alarm.

"Did he say what else had been taken?" Asked General Hammond.

O'Neill shook his head. "But there is some good news! We now have a name, kids. Has anybody ever heard of someone called Lee Firman?"


	6. 09:10 West of Cheyenne Mountain, Colorad...

_09:10. West of Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado._

The green Ford Taurus followed the road as it passed through the spectacular Rocky Mountain scenery. Behind the wheel, wearing the dress uniform of a female Air Force Sergeant, Scully fired another dirty look at 'Major' Mulder in the passenger seat.

"You look great Scully, really!" Said Mulder trying to hide a smirk behind his hand.

"I don't know which is the more disconcerting Mulder, the fact that Frohike managed to get these uniforms or the fact that he knows my size."

"You haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary over at your place, have you? You know, trash cans being disturbed, packing crates under your windows, that kind of thing?"

Another dirty look blazed across the interior of the rental car and Mulder thought it best to leave it alone. Funny how the last snigger always managed to get away from him.

Mulder noticed a dirt track leading off to the right of the main highway. Tyre marks caused by truck wheels dragging dust onto the tarmac told him that large vehicles would frequently use the track. He quickly decided to trust his instincts. "Turn off here Scully, up the dirt trail!"

Scully did as she was told and had to slow right down to avoid damaging the car in the ruts and bumps of the track. After ten minutes of bumping and jostling, no matter how slowly she drove; she was about to tell Mulder that he must have been wrong when the track gave way to smooth tarmac again. Scully followed the road as it led them deeper into the mountains and, now that the going was smoother, she coaxed a little more speed out of the engine.

They spoke little during the smooth passage, each content to leave the other to their mental preparations for the task ahead. After fifteen minutes they came to a chain link fence topped with barbed wire that ran parallel with the road before terminating in a sliding chain link gate.

Scully pulled up to the gate as a soldier, wearing combat greens and carrying a M60 assault rifle, made his way over to the passenger door. She felt the familiar butterflies in her stomach and began breathing deeply to help her calm down.

Mulder, on the other hand, was looking through the fence at the large, semi-circular entrance to the underground complex that looked like a giant pipe that had been sunk into the side of the mountain. He also noticed a few vehicles parked here and there, but his attention was drawn to the large number of armed soldiers walking around. "Is it me Scully, or is there an awful lot of hardware down there for a research station?"

Before she could answer, the soldier arrived at the window and, as Mulder wound it down, she felt the butterflies take flight inside her. She forced herself to calm down as she realised that there was now no going back.

"Good morning sir!" Said the soldier as he bent down to peer inside the car. He addressed Mulder and completely ignored Scully. "May I see some identification please?" He said before Mulder could respond to his greeting.

"Morning!" Said Mulder as he and Scully held up their identity badges. In the silence of their minds, they both prayed that Biers' forgery skills hadn't let him down.

"Thank you sir. What is your business at Cheyenne Mountain?"

"Dispatches for General Hammond and medical reports for Doctor Frazier."

"I see. And what do the dispatches contain sir?"

Mulder looked up at the guardsman. "Need to know, soldier!" He replied in a voice that had an edge.

"Of course sir." Said the guard with no reaction to Mulder's tone. "If you would pull up to the guardhouse and pop the trunk please?"

Scully pulled up at the barrier outside the guardhouse and stood at the side of the car while two other soldiers carried out a perfunctory search of the vehicle. She looked through the window at Mulder as he filled out the necessary security forms. The brief nod he gave her told her that Biers' forgeries had stood up to inspection and she hoped that his dispatches and medical reports would do the same when the time came.

Once they had been given the necessary security passes, they were told to drive their car into the mountain entrance where a junior officer would be waiting to meet them and escort them down to the lower levels. Sure enough, once the car was parked, they met the officer and, briefcase in hand, they followed him through a pair of massive steel doors into the mountain's interior.


	7. 12:10 Alameda Dockyard, San Francisco

_12:10. Alameda Dockyard, San Francisco._

Dave Coleman walked down the corridor of the darkened warehouse and listened to the echoes of his own footfalls as they rebounded off the crates that surrounded him. He was a burley man in his mid forties, but the strain of working for various agencies, some official and some not, was beginning to show.

Ahead of him, on the corner of another corridor that crossed the one he was in, he could just make out the dim shape of his partner, Mike Crackow. Mike had joined the NID at the same time as he had and they had been partners ever since. Out of all the agencies he'd worked for, out of all the so-called partners he'd had in those agencies, Mike was the only one he truly trusted, it was a trust that went both ways.

"What the hell are we doing here Dave?" Said Crackow in a quiet voice as Coleman drew near. He was a small, thin man with dark, slicked back hair and a rat-like face that had earned him the nickname of 'The Rodent', though if anyone was to call him that in front of Coleman they were risking a broken jaw.

"We're doing what we're supposed to do!" Replied Coleman with a sigh. "Apparently, some bigwig in the NID is coming down and we're supposed to see that the visit goes off without a hitch." Though what could happen in the middle of an old naval yard that was now closed down was beyond him.

"Something doesn't smell right!" Said Crackow, staring off into the gloom.

"You're not wrong!" Said Coleman, looking back down the corridor. "No-ones saying anything, but I think the NID's fan took a direct hit."

"So, what do we do man?"

"We stick together! We'll be ok as long as we got each others back."

"Always man!"

"Alright, see you on the next pass."

The two men separated and walked off in opposite directions. A couple of seconds later, a flame flared in the darkest of the shadows in the corridor behind where the two men had been stood. A tall man in his late fifties and wearing a grey suit stepped forward and lit his cigarette. He looked first in Coleman's direction and then turned to stare after Crackow. He stood still for a few moments, as if in deep thought, seemingly oblivious to the possibility of either men turning and seeing him. Then he took another pull on his cigarette before moving forward along the corridor of boxes. As he walked, he put the packet of Morley's back into his pocket.

He followed the corridor until he reached the warehouse wall. Here he turned to the left and walked until he found the office. Light streamed from the office window and faint sounds of movement could be heard from inside.

The smoking man opened the door without knocking and stepped inside. The office looked like any other warehouse office the world over. Paperwork littered the various tabletops and hung out of trays marked either 'in', 'out' or 'done'. Most of the office hardware was switched off, though a few still had their operational lights lit. The wall opposite the door was covered with a map of the United States that was so big, it had to be cut into three sections that were tacked up in a line.

Behind a desk in the corner sat a middle-aged man in faded jeans and a check shirt. He looked up from his paperwork as the man entered the office and pushed a pair of wire-framed glasses up onto the bridge of his nose.

The smoking man took another pull on his cigarette before moving deeper into the office. "Mr Sommerstein?" He asked as he stopped in the middle of two desks.

"Yes sir!" Replied Sommerstein starting to rise from his chair. He stopped half way up as the man waved him back down again.

"I understand we have a problem here. I've been sent to sort it out." Said the man as he lifted the cigarette again.

"I'm sorry sir, but I didn't get your name?"

The man stopped just short of putting the cigarette in his mouth. "That's because I didn't give it to you."

Sommerstein watched as the end of the cigarette flared for a moment. He realised that he was nervously twiddling a pen through his fingers and had to make a conscious effort to stop. Something about this man unnerved him. He knew the man before him was dangerous, he radiated menace in near physical waves, but there was something else about him, a darkness in his soul that was there for all the world to see in his calm, almost serene demeanour. Perhaps the most disturbing thing of all was the fact that he didn't even try to hide it.

Sommerstein told the man how one of the operatives under his control, a man called Lee Firman, had removed a number of items from the warehouse without being detected. He explained that, to cover up his actions, Firman had moved other items around the warehouse, making it difficult to tell that stuff was actually missing instead of simply being misplaced. The thefts may well have remained undiscovered if it hadn't been for the disappearance of, probably, the singular most important item in the NID's warehouse, a live alien organism.

The smoking man dropped the butt of his cigarette on the floor and stood on it. "What else is missing?"

"There's a list on the desktop behind you." Sommerstein watched as the man picked up the list and began reading through it.

"Tell me about Firman." He said without looking up from the list.

"He was recruited from the FBI by Colonel Maybourne, been with us for around eight months. Both Maybourne and myself investigated his background, everything checked out and he made himself quite an asset. That's his file on the desk there."

The man picked the file, opened it and raised his head slightly without taking his eyes off Firman's picture.

Sommerstein watched as the man took out the packet of Morley's and lit another cigarette. He leaned back in his chair as the man turned and walked out of the office without saying another word, still reading the file. He had no doubts in his mind that, if it weren't for the fact that the man had recognised Firman's picture, he would now be dead. He breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Outside the office, CGB Spender gazed down at the picture of Alex Krychek before closing the file and making his way out of the warehouse.

Next to his car was a silver Toyota van with two men sat in the front, one of whom wound down a window as Spender approached. "Bring the two guards with you. Sommerstein is to 'remain' here!"


	8. 10:10 Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorad...

_10:10. Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorado._

The elevator doors opened into a grey walled corridor. As they stepped out of the elevator, Mulder turned to Scully. "Sergeant, report to Doctor Frasier in the Infirmary, deliver your documents and pick any up for return. I'll meet you topside when we're finished."

The junior officer turned to Mulder. "Er, I don't know about that sir!"

"Is there a problem Lieutenant?" Asked Mulder.

The junior officer turned to Scully and then back to Mulder, a helpless look on his face.

"'Is' there a problem 'Lieutenant'?" Repeated Mulder in a hard tone of voice.

The Lieutenant's body straightened. "No sir!"

"Very well. Cary on Sergeant!" Scully couldn't believe it when Mulder actually winked at her. "Lead the way Lieutenant!"

"Yes sir! This way please."

It was Scully's turn to give Mulder a helpless look. She didn't know where the Infirmary was, and it wasn't as though she could afford to draw attention to herself by wandering around the base asking for directions.

As he set off behind the junior officer, Mulder pointed up to a sign next to the elevator doors that said 'Infirmary' and had an arrow pointing the way. "Topside Sergeant!" He said without looking back.

Scully glanced back up at the sign before heading off in the direction of the Infirmary. As she walked, she tried to adjust her movements to account for the stiffened and regimented style of walking that seemed to be drummed into military types the world over. The expression on her face told of a woman on a mission, which, she hoped, would stop anyone stopping her to ask awkward questions.

In front of her she saw another sign for the Infirmary that pointed down a corridor to her left. Concentrating more on her movements than on where she was actually going, she rounded the corner at speed and almost collided with two men coming the opposite way.

"Whoa, easy Sergeant!" Said one of the men, a tall, lean man who's hair was starting to grey.

Scully looked from him to the other man, a tall, impressively built man, dark skinned, bald and with some kind of gold emblem on his forehead. She turned her attention back to the first man and noticed for the first time that he was a Colonel. She stood rigidly to attention and, quite sub-consciously, snapped off a near perfect salute. "Sorry sir, I wasn't watching where I was going!"

O'Neill returned the salute. "Alright, no harm done." He turned to Teal'c. "You harmed?"

"I am not!" He replied putting his hands behind his back.

"See!" Said O'Neill, turning back to Scully with a smile.

"Yes sir, it won't happen again sir." Said Scully, still stood at attention.

"Do I know you Sergeant?"

"No sir," said Scully staring fixedly ahead, "just got in from Nulles with medical reports for Doctor Frasier sir."

"Ah! How are things in Nevada?"

"Dry, sir!"

"Huh!" Said O'Neill with a nod of his head. "Well, don't let me detain you Sergeant."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." Scully saluted again.

O'Neill returned the salute again before setting off up the corridor.

Scully looked at the other man who bowed his head toward her before following the Colonel. There was something about him; something different that Scully couldn't quite put her finger on. She inclined her head to acknowledge him before continuing down the corridor.

She tried to calm herself down as she walked by breathing deeply, trying all the while to ignore the tightness in her chest, behind which she could feel her heart beating frantically.

She was relieved to see the Infirmary just ahead and force herself to keep a sedate pace. She couldn't help feeling that someone, maybe the Colonel and his large companion, was watching her from behind. When she reached the double doors of the Infirmary, she risked a glance up the corridor, which, to her relief, was empty.

Inside the infirmary, Scully could see no sign of any Doctors or Nurses. What she could see were two patients lying on beds in what was obviously a military field hospital, just a better equipped one.

The two men were both asleep and, after checking around one more time, Scully went over to the foot of the nearest occupied bed. The sleeping man had his blankets up to his bandaged chest; bandages also covered his right shoulder and partway down his right arm. She also noticed a dark tattoo on the man's forehead and, though she couldn't say for sure what the big man's tattoo had been, she felt sure it wasn't the same design as this one.

A noise in the corridor outside made Scully turn to the double doors. When, after a few tense moments, the doors remained closed, she turned back to the bed and picked up the clipboard that held the man's charts. A frown appeared as she read about 'deep wounds', 'burns' and 'staff blasts'. The frown deepened as she read Doctor Frasier's conclusions. 'Rem'nac is strong, even for a Jaffa warrior, and his symbiote is already accelerating the healing process. He should be able to return to Chulac in a couple of days, a week at the most.'

Scully returned the clipboard to the hook at the bottom of the bed and looked at the sleeping man again. She was about to go over to the second patient when she spotted an X-ray light board with some plates hanging on it. She quickly made her way over and turned on the backlight. The X-ray plates showed, what looked like, some kind of strange snake inside a man's stomach. Successive plates showed the organism in different positions that left Scully with only one conclusion. The snake was still alive.

Scully turned back to the man on the bed and looked at him with wide, staring eyes. A simbyote? Two organisms living within the same physical body, both reliant on each other for survival. She had heard of examples of symbiotic relationships in nature before, but never involving Humans.

Unless the man lying on that bed wasn't…!

"Excuse me Sergeant," said a woman's stern voice from behind her, "but what are you doing here?"

Scully started and almost dropped the 'reports' she was carrying. She spun around to see a young woman wearing an Air force uniform under a Doctor's white coat standing just inside the double doors. "Oh! Doctor Frasier?"

"Yes! Now that's out the way, do you want to tell me what you're doing in my Infirmary?"

"I'm sorry Doctor, I was looking for you. I've got some medical reports for you, from Nulles!"

Doctor Frasier gave Scully a suspicious look as she walked towards her. "Medical reports go to my office, they aren't required reading for my patients."

"Of course, Doctor. I am sorry! It's my first time here and, well, it won't happen again." Scully was beginning to think that this last phrase had magical properties. It certainly seemed to sort out all kinds of problems as far as officers and other authority figures were concerned. Next time she saw her brother, Bill, a ranking officer in the Navy, she would have to thank him for that piece of invaluable information.

It seemed that, no sooner had she navigated around one problem, she was faced with another one. Frohike and Langley had done a pretty good job of falsifying those reports, but would they stand up to Doctor Frasier's professional scrutiny? Fortunately, she wasn't about to find out any time soon.

In the corridor outside, a klaxon began sounding its intermittent signal and a red light began flashing next to the double doors. If Scully couldn't believe her luck, she had a harder time believing her ears as a man's voice came over the tanoy.

"Unscheduled off-world activation!"

Did she hear right. Did the announcer really just say 'off-world' activation?

Mulder was beginning to wonder if the junior officer actually knew where he was going. After leaving Scully at the elevator, something he was going to get it in the neck for later, he had followed the junior officer down one grey corridor after another until, finally, arriving at a large briefing room.

"If you would wait here please sir, General Hammond will be with you presently!"

"Certainly!" Replied Mulder, taking in the layout of the room.

"Would you like some refreshment, sir?"

Mulder was taken aback for a moment. In his line of work, people usually wanted to get rid of him, not offer him refreshment. "Yes! Coffee, please."

"I'll inform General Hammond that you're here and have the coffee brought to you."

"Thank you Lieutenant, it's most appreciated."

The coffee arrived before General Hammond did and, Mulder had to admit, was actually quite good. He had just decided that he could get used to a life as a Major when general Hammond entered the room. Mulder, after almost dropping his cup, stood to attention and saluted.

"Major!" Said Hammond returning the salute. "What can I do for you?"

"Dispatches sir, from Nulles!" said Mulder offering the bundle of manila envelopes to the stocky General.

"Thank you!" Said Hammond as he leafed through the envelopes. "How is General Baker settling in?"

Mulder was stumped for a moment. Realising he had to act quickly, he replied, "Sorry sir?"

Hammond looked up from the envelopes. "General Baker, your new base commander?"

"You mean General Masterson sir! I'm afraid I don't know any General Baker, sir."

"Of course, General Masterson, yes!" Said Hammond, appearing to realise his mistake.

Mulder felt that he had just passed a test and silently promised to praise Langley's hacking skills. "He's very well sir. If I may, he speaks very highly of you and your organization. He says that we wouldn't be nearly as busy as we are if it wasn't for you sir."

Hammond seemed to finish his appraisal of the officer before him. "You're welcome!" He said with a nod of his head.

"Sir?" Said Mulder with genuine eagerness. "I realise that this is highly irregular, but I was wondering if I might..?" He knew there was an 'it', but didn't have a clue as to what 'it' might be. Either way, this was probably his one and only chance of finding out and leaving the sentence open was the only way of doing it.

You could call it providence, lady luck or divine intervention, but at that moment a klaxon sounded and a red light in the corner of the room began flashing. A man's voice came over the tanoy. "Unscheduled off-world activation!"

"Looks like you get to see it in action, Major!" Said Hammond as he turned and stalked out of the room.

Mulder quickly fell in behind him, the words 'off-world activation' echoing in his mind.


	9. 10:27 Eastside Dock, Chicago, Illinoise

_10:27. Eastside Docks, Chicago._

The red Ford Mustang threaded its way through the maze of derelict machinery, cargo containers and various other flotsam that told the story of a dockland that had opened in better times, times that now seemed more of a dream than a history.

Eventually finding its way to the waterside, the driver parked in the shadows of an abandoned warehouse and carefully made his way to the rusting hulk of an old freighter. Being careful to keep to the shadows, the tall, lean figure scanned his surroundings before quickly ascending the walkway to the freighters deck. Once on board, he hurried to the deserted bridge and once again scanned the surrounding dockland through the long, grimy windows under which was written, in fading rust splotched letters, the words 'Southern Pride'.

When he was satisfied that all was as he had left it, the dark shape entered a doorway, switched on a small flashlight, and made his way down through several decks into the bowels of the old freighter. The further down he went the more the atmosphere became cold and damp, lying heavy with the musty smell of rust mixed with the tang of sea air. Despite wearing soft-soled sport shoes, his faint footfalls still caused ghostly echoes to follow him through the decayed interior of the long dead ship.

The figure came to a doorway that led to the Southern Pride's cargo hold and, after stepping through the door-less hatchway, came to a door with a numeric keypad to one side of it. This door was the only way into, and out of, a series of cargo containers that had been carefully positioned in the hold of the ship. All the containers had short, steel tubes connecting them from the inside, tubes that had been painted on the outside so that anyone looking in from above would just think that they were a couple of abandoned containers, left in the hold of an abandoned ship. Anyone on the inside, however, would be able to move around freely with no one on the outside being any the wiser.

The figure punched in a sequence of numbers on the keypad and watched as the door silently opened. He stepped through into a narrow space and waited for the door to close before opening a more conventional door. Inside this door was a waiting area with a group of soft padded chairs and an empty desk where a secretary might sit.

The man walked through the brightly lit waiting area and entered the second container, the first of a series of laboratories. The only thing that differed each successive lab was the high tech equipment each lab was kitted out with. All the labs seemed to have automated experiments going on and the man stopped to have a look at each as he passed.

He suddenly stopped as the sound of movement came to him from the next container. He listened intently for a few moments before moving to the entrance. Here he stopped and peeked around the corner of the short connecting hallway.

Inside the next lab, a tall, thin technician was busy writing equations on a white board. Every now and again, he would bend down and study a diagram on a computer screen, trace a line on an intricate diagram with his finger, before returning to the white board to make more calculations, all the while muttering to himself words that only he could hear. As the visitor watched, the technician gave a short burst of giggling, went over to a table behind the white board and came back to his computer, pushing thick glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and wringing his hands together. Light from a strip light above him shone off his bald head and glistened on beads of sweat.

The man stepped silently into the lab and simply stood just inside the doorway, looking around at all the scientific equipment scattered around the interior of the forty-foot container. The lab technician was so wrapped up in his work that the man had time to take in everything about the container before it was realised that he was there.

"Jesus Lee!" Said the lab tech with a start. "Do you have to sneak around like that?"

"Sneak around?" Said Krychek. "I could've come in here with a full fanfare and you wouldn't have noticed! I take it you've found something?"

"Have I!" Said the lab tech, rushing forward to grab Krychek by the arm. He led him to the table behind the white board.

On the table stood, what looked like, an upside down vase of frosted glass standing on a two-inch thick slab of obsidian. There were golden glyphs, tiny pictograms, embossed on the vase in random positions and more glyphs in a perfectly straight line around the square shaped black base.

Krychek lent forward to gaze at the long slender shape that was encased within the frosted glass. "Have you figured out what this is yet?" He asked without taking his eyes of the frozen shadow behind the glass.

"Have I!" Said the Technician with a giggle. "You are not going to believe this."

Krychek spun around to look up at the Technician. "Don't bet on it! You'd be surprised at some of the things I've seen Anton, very surprised." He turned his attention back to the object.

"That maybe, but I would be very surprised if you've seen one of these." Replied Anton with a glint in his eye. "Do you know what a Stasis Chamber is?"

Krychek looked up at Anton before straightening up. "Suspended Animation?" He asked.

Pleased at having his point proven, Anton nodded his head vigorously. "Cryogenics without the freezing! A process of perfectly preserving an organism in between one heartbeat and the next and then reviving them without there being any side effects what-so-ever. I think that this 'is' a Stasis Chamber!"

Krychek looked down at the object on the table. "So, that thing inside, it's still alive?"

"I believe so, yes. Perfectly preserved, as if in a single moment in time. Of course, anyone who didn't know what this was could attach any instruments they wanted and wouldn't get any readings, so anyone who's looked this thing over before me probably thought that the snake was dead."

"Snake?" Interrupted Krychek.

"Or eel, what ever the test subject is." Anton looked at Krychek with a frown. "Where did you get this anyway?"

"Somewhere a long way from here! Have you figured out what the pictures are?"

"No, but they do look like Hieroglyphs! Saying that, I don't think they were intended as writing, I think these are some kind of control system, though I can't seem to get them to work. But have a look at this."

Anton took Krychek over to the computer and punched some keys, then stood back while Krychek looked at the diagram on the screen. "Inside the base of the object, I found this. A set of seven crystals which, I believe, are some kind of power supply."

Krychek studied the image on the monitor. "What are all these lines?"

"Very fine gold thread! They form a latticework throughout the whole of the base. I think that the base is some kind of Integrated circuit, like an IC chip in this computer, which controls all the functions of the device. Inside the glass case are three rods that act as some kind of emitter array that is wired directly into the latticework." Anton stood up, shaking his head. "Lee, do you have any idea what this means?"

"It means that we have to figure out how to work it!" Replied Krychek without looking up from the monitor.

"Lee, top scientists all over the world have spent decades trying to figure out how to make one of these. If I can work out how to operate this, I can work out 'how' it operates. Once I've done that, I can reconfigure its design for Humans." When Krychek continued to gaze at the screen, Anton continued. "Think about it Lee! NASA would spend their entire annual budget for just one of these, let alone the European Space Agency, the Russians, the Chinese."

"All that is so much smoke in the wind, until you figure out how it works!" Said Krychek, finally turning away from the monitor.

"I agree, but I've gone as far as I can go down here. I've got too limited resources down here Lee! If you want more results, quicker, you're going to have to get me a better lab to work in."

Krychek thought for a moment. "I'll see what I can do! In the meantime, you carry on trying to figure this out. All the others can wait. I'll call back later. If you want another lab, I'll have to go and see some people."

"Ok, but before you go, I've got something else to show you. Over here!" Anton walked into the next container, followed by Krychek. He walked over to a bench and picked up a z-shaped device. "You was right about this, it is a weapon." He flipped a switch on the side of the Zatnikotel and the Jaffa weapon elongated. "Watch!" He pointed the zat gun at a Dog in a cage in the corner of the lab. There was an electronic whine and a blue beam struck the dog, which yelped loudly before collapsing.

Krychek went over to the cage, opened the door and put his hand over the Dog's heart. "It's still alive! What is that, some kind of Tazer?"

"Stand back!" Anton took aim again and pressed the trigger.

Krychek checked the Dog again and stood up. "One shot stuns, the second one kills." He said as he took the Zat gun off Anton.

"Shoot it again!" Said Anton, nodding his encouragement.

"The Dog's already dead!"

"Trust me, shoot again."

Krychek aimed the weapon and fired. He stood open-mouthed as the body of the Dog disintegrated to leave no trace. He turned the weapon over in his hand. "It's a perfect murder weapon!"

"There is a few Government Agencies would give their right arm for a couple of these." Said Anton.

"There are a few Government Agencies that's probably already got them." Replied Krychek. He flipped the switch and smiled as the weapon closed up again. He looked at Anton. "Well done! I knew I could rely on you."


	10. 10:47 Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorad...

_10:47. Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorado._

"Yes Doctor, I am aware of it! As soon as I find out anything, I'll let you know." Hammond put down the phone and looked at O'Neill.

"Medical reports too?" He asked already knowing the answer.

Hammond nodded. "I'm ordering a total security shakedown and evaluation. Whoever they were, they were well informed I'll give them that."

"Have you been on to Nulles?"

"General Masterson is stepping up his security and running checks to see if he can find anything there."

Both men turned to the door as Major Carter rushed in. "General Hammond! Oh, excuse me Colonel, but I have to report a security breach."

"She's good, isn't she?" Said O'Neill with a wry grin.

"You know about it?" She asked perplexed.

O'Neill nodded his head slowly. "Oh yes. They delivered false dispatches and medical reports, probably had a good look around while they were at it. We're trying to find out who they were."

"I know one of them sir!"

Hammond looked up from his desk. "You do?"

"Told you she was good!" Said O'Neill with a smile.

"In the first Gulf War, there was a rash of UFO sightings in controlled airspace, they became known as The Gulf Breeze Sightings. I was taken off active combat duty to go and investigate them. After the war, a man called Fox Mulder published a paper about Gulf Breeze. I'm sure that's him sir, the Major."

"Way to go Carter!" Said O'Neill.

"What do you know about him, Major?" Asked Hammond.

"Well sir, we had to interview him. Some of the details of his report were still classified at the time. Some of his ideas and conclusions were radical, to say the least, but they eventually came pretty close to the mark." Carter's eyes flicked between the two senior officers. "He was recruited into the FBI straight from graduating at Oxford in England, became one of their top profilers. But, because of an incident in his youth, he turned all his attention to aliens and UFO's."

"What incident?" Asked Hammond.

"His sister disappeared and he believes she was abducted by alien Greys, sir."

"The Asgard?" Said O'Neill incredulously.

Carter looked at her unit commander and shrugged her shoulders. "That's what he believes sir! Anyway, he managed to get himself assigned to the FBI's X-Files, cases that have paranormal origins, and has been there ever since."

"Paranormal origins? As in Aliens?" Asked O'Neill.

"What about the female Sergeant, any idea who she is?" Asked Hammond while looking at a TV screen that showed an image of Scully in the corridor leading to the Infirmary.

"No sir! But, if she's his partner on the X-Files, the FBI will be able to confirm her I.D."

"I'm waiting for the Director In Chief of the FBI to get back to me." Said Hammond.

"Really?" Said O'Neill in surprise. "How did you manage to find him?"

"He plays golf with some of the Joint Chiefs."

"Right! What's his handicap?"

"The fact that I know he plays golf with the Joint Chiefs!"

There was a knock at the door and a Sergeant wearing combat greens stepped into the room and saluted. "Excuse me sir, but we've got them! Captain Densham has them heading for the Utah state line. He asks if you want them picking up sir?"

"No!" Replied Hammond after a moment's consideration. "Tell Captain Densham he's to follow and observe, but do not apprehend. I want to know where they're going and who they meet up with."

"Yes sir!" The Sergeant saluted again before spinning on his heels and disappearing through the door.

"If they're working outside the FBI, I want to know who for! Colonel, have Major Holt dispatch one of his security teams, they are to liase with Captain Densham."

"Do you think they had something to do with the earlier security breach?" Asked O'Neill.

"I don't know, but if they did, I 'want' to know!"

O'Neill turned and, followed by Major Carter, they left the General to his thoughts.


	11. 11:00 I25, Utah State Line

_11:00. I.25, Utah State Line._

"It was incredible, Scully! If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it." Mulder had taken off his jacket and tie and was driving with his white shirtsleeves rolled up. His eyes were aflame with excitement as he spoke. "It was like, a big metal ring with a couple of lights and all these big symbols around the edge. But, the centre of the ring was full of water, or what looked like water, all shimmering with light. The thing is, though, the ring was standing erect and none of the water fell out. Next thing, a group of people just strolled out of it, literally coming from no-where, and all of them bone dry!"

Scully, who had been getting changed on the back seat, climbed through to sit in the passenger seat. "Mulder," she said thoughtfully, "do you remember that guy I was seeing not long after joining you on the X-Files?"

"Who, Junior Einstein?" Said Mulder with a smirk.

Scully gave a slightly embarrassed smile; 'Junior Einstein' wasn't the worst of the names he had been given. "Yes, him. I went with him to a Physics lecture at Harvard and they described pretty much the same thing."

"What was the lecture?"

"Wormholes!"

"What, Black Holes?" Asked Mulder, turning to look at his partner.

"The lecture was actually about Particle Physics and Superstring Theory, but the subject of Wormholes came up. Apparently, the latest train of thought is that Wormholes and Black Holes are a much more common phenomenon than was previously thought." She paused for a second to gather her thoughts. "The point is, you just described exactly what the lecturer theorised the Event Horizon of a Wormhole would look like. If what both of you described is correct, somebody has worked out how to open a stable Wormhole!"

"That was clever of them!" Said Mulder looking into the rear view mirror.

"It was a lot more than clever Mulder! That level of technology is so much more advanced than we are."

Mulder looked at her again. "Are you saying its Extra Terrestrial?"

"It has to be! To open a stable Wormhole without vaporising half the planet would require a clear and definitive understanding of Particle Physics down to its absolute point values. We just don't have that level of understanding yet."

"Somebody does, I know what I saw Scully!" Mulder checked the rear view mirror again and slowly added more pressure to the accelerator pedal.

Scully noticed what he was doing and looked into the side mirror. In the distance on the road behind them, she saw the silhouette of a vehicle. "Are they following us?"

"I think so! I've increased our speed from fifty to eighty and they're pacing us."

An electronic trilling came from Mulder's cell phone and, after pulling it out of his jacket pocket; he pushed it onto a hands-free cradle on the dash and pressed the green button. "Mulder!"

"It's Langley!" Said a voice from the loud speaker. "We got something here that you'll want to know about."

"I'm a little busy right now!"

"You'll want to hear this! An old friend of yours has surfaced again."

"Who?"

"Krychek!"

"Krychek?" Said Mulder as he and Scully exchanged glances. "Where?"

"He used one of his hidden accounts to buy a ship, the Southern Pride! It's moored in Chicago's East Side Harbour! But get this, he's also got himself a load of scientific equipment and had it delivered to the same place."

"What kind of equipment?" Asked Scully, feeling that this was more her area.

"Mainly analytical equipment. Stuff for taking things apart, seeing how they tick and then putting them back together again. He's had the ship for a while, a couple of months at least, but the hardware is a fairly recent purchase."

"How did you get on to him?" Asked Mulder.

"He got his equipment from our supplier!" Said Langley with a chuckle. "Can you beat that? We got into the supplier's system through a back door we installed when we upgraded his system for him. We just back-tracked from there."

"Thanks guys, you did good again!"

"One more thing, Mulder! You'd better get your foot down. Word is that everyone's favourite smoker is also out for him."

"Cancer Man?"

"The one! We don't think he knows where he is yet, but it's only a matter of time. Krychek must be in a hurry 'cos he isn't covering his tracks as well as he usually does. We got a lucky break, finding him the way we did, but tracking him was easy enough. If we could do it, you can bet your bottom dollar that old CGB could do it too."

"I'll keep that in mind! Thanks guys." Mulder pressed the red button on the phones keypad and checked the rear view mirror again. "Buckle up Scully!" He said when he saw the dark shape of the following vehicle rapidly gaining on them.


	12. 11:05 Utah State Line

_11:05. I.25, Utah State Line._

"Do we know who they are, sir?" Asked one of the soldiers sat in the back seats of the Hummer.

"Not yet!" Replied Captain Densham, a lean and well muscled man who was more used to field ops than these 'baby sitting' assignments. "All we know for sure is that they managed to infiltrate the Cheyenne Mountain Complex and that we have to follow and observe."

"They've increased speed to sixty sir!" Said the driver, Sergeant Olson.

"Pace them Sergeant." Densham folded up the map he had been studying and looked out of the Hummer's window. They had left the mountains behind and were now entering the relatively flat expanse of the Utah desert. Densham wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead and tossed the map onto the dash. He hated jobs like this and he knew that the men weren't keen on them either. But, the job was there to do and it beat sitting in the guardhouse all day.

"Looks like they made us sir," Said Sergeant Olson, "speeds up to eighty and increasing!"

"Stay with them Sergeant! Who's got the radio?" He turned around as the radio was passed to him from the back. "Sierra Golf Charlie, Tango Alpha! Sierra Golf Charlie, Tango Alpha receiving, over!"

There was a moment of static before his call was answered. "Tango Alpha, this is Hammond! What's your situation, Captain? Over!"

"Sir! Target vehicle is making a run for it. They have now crossed over into Utah and their speed is increasing, currently closing on ninety. Request further instructions with a recommendation that we take them now, before they enter a populated area sir? Over!"

"Very well Captain! Bring them in, but avoid a firefight if at all possible. Is that understood? Over!"

"Understood sir, Tango Alpha out!" Densham turned to his men. "Reel them in Sergeant! Ok listen up, Sitrep! Mission parameters are now to apprehend the insurgents in the target vehicle. We are going in hot, but we are not to open fire unless fired upon. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" Shouted the six men in rear as one.

"Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" Repeated the men, even louder.

"Very good! Sergeant, why aren't we in front of them?"

"Working on it sir!"

This was more like it. Ok, so it wasn't exactly crawling through mud and filth until you were close enough to the enemy that you could smell what they'd had for breakfast, but it was enough to ignite the fire in his blood, the same for his men too. He listened as the men in the back readied their weapons by fitting a magazine of live rounds into their MP5's, cocking them and then applying the safety catch. One flip of a switch and any enemy fire would be answered in kind.

The target vehicle was close enough now for Densham to make out the make and colour. With the road in front of them being an, almost perfect, straight line, the Taurus was no match for the modified super V8 engine of the Hummer.

In the absence of any sirens or red and blues, Olson started hitting the horn and flashing the headlights, trying to get the driver of the Taurus to pull over.

Now travelling at close to a hundred and twenty miles an hour, it was obvious that the occupants of the Taurus weren't about to pull over, so Densham gave the order to overtake. This proved a more difficult task than it sounded as there were deep ruts on both sides of the road and, every time the Hummer moved to one side of the road in order to get passed, the Taurus moved to block them.

"Sergeant, have you got any more speed left?" Shouted Densham.

"Yes sir!" Replied Olson.

"Ok, here's what I want you to do. When I give the word, I want you up the left hand side of that vehicle. When they move to block, you are to maintain your position and, if necessary, allow them to impact. Do you understand?"

"Dangerous at this speed sir!" Said Olson, fighting for control as they bounced over bumps in the road.

"Can you handle it?"

"I meant dangerous for them sir!" Shouted the Sergeant.

"That's what I want to hear. Ready to manoeuvre.., GO!"

The Hummer darted over to the left as the Sergeant jammed his foot onto the floor. Captain Densham just had time to notice a grey puff of smoke, but didn't feel the expected impact. Instead, the Taurus had disappeared behind them. "What the hell?"

Acting on automatic, Sergeant Olson dipped the clutch, dropped into second and threw on the handbrake. He spun the Hummer around hundred and eighty degrees, let off the handbrake and gunned the engine again. With a roaring engine and screaming tyres, the Hummer leapt forward and Olson had to fight for control as he threw the large vehicle off the road onto a dirt track of compacted sand after the Taurus.

Densham, having almost landed in the Sergeants lap, had to steady himself by gripping the door handle beside him. "Son of a bitch! Well done, Olson. Now, make yourself my favourite by getting that son of a bitch."

"Yes sir!" Shouted Olson.

Densham realised that the driver of the Taurus may have made a fatal error in coming down this track. The track was nothing more than compacted sand, sand that had been pressed down by dirt bikers, off-roaders and amorous kids who would go out into the desert from their isolated communities in order to 'make out', away from the prying eyes of their respective parents. But the Taurus was a city car, designed for the smooth tarmac of the urban freeways, not the bumps and ruts of a desert dirt track. Where-as the monstrous four-wheel drive Hummer would take the pounding and the jostling as though it were caused by no more than bugs hitting the windscreen.

Sure enough, as seen by momentary glimpses of the Taurus through the dust, Densham saw that they were gaining again. "Go on..Sergeant, we're..gaining on them! Keep..going!" Densham had to shout his loudest to make himself heard over the noise of the engine, rattling stones and the myriad bangs and bumps coming from all around him.

The dust in front of him thinned out a little and Densham could see the Taurus just ahead of them, bouncing up and down in a rhythmic motion that would make a ships cat feel right at home. But then it suddenly disappeared from sight and Densham just had enough time to realise two things, that the Taurus had dropped down an embankment and that, instead of slowing, Sergeant Olson had planted his foot down hard on the accelerator and launched the Hummer over the embankment. Densham's eyes bulged as he shouted "Impact!"

It was a gamble, but it paid off. The Hummer landed on the hard sand and bounced high to land on the track once again. Densham turned his wide-eyed stare on the Sergeant. "Christ Olson! I know you're in the Air Force, but Jesus!"

Still, he had to admit that they were right on top of them now, literally if they had been going any slower. He wasn't sure how far away from the road they were now, or where their exact position was in this featureless landscape, but he knew that the further from the road they went, the better. There was nowhere for them to hide out here, no isolated community for them to make a scene in and the track was only going to get rougher the deeper into the desert they went.

"We got tracks, both left and right, coming up Sergeant, watch for them making a turn." Shouted Densham, his eyes fixed on the rear window of the Taurus.

"Yes sir!" Replied Olson, his face a mask of concentration. He could see the tracks crossing horizontal to them and saw, just as they were about to cross, the front of the Taurus begin to turn right. He eased off the accelerator for the turn but the Taurus straightened again and made some distance on them. "Goddammit!" He shouted as the Hummer sloughed as he tried to straighten it up again.

"That sneaky bastard!" Shouted Densham as he slapped his hand on the dash in frustration. "Ok Sergeant, give 'em a nudge."

"Yes sir!" Said Olson, planting his foot again.

As the Hummer picked up speed and closed in on the bouncing Taurus, the green car suddenly broke right and left the dirt track, heading out onto the open orange yellow sand in a wide sweeping arc and made for a ridge off to the right.

The Sergeant threw the wheel over to the right and brought the Hummer over to give chase. The ridge wasn't very far away, but it was just a little too high for the Hummer to make it up, which meant that there was no way the Taurus was going to make it either. Therefore, Olson surmised, they must be heading for the track they had crossed, there-by making a run for it back to the road. Olson felt elation building inside him. Now that he knew where they were going, he had them.

Neither Olson or Captain Densham could quite believe it when they saw the Taurus making distance on them, but the biggest shock came when they realised that it was they who were slowing down, rapidly.

The Taurus had led them close to the long ridge, a ridge that served to trap loose sand and dust that had been picked up by the desert winds. The ground at the base of the ridge was just soft sand that served to impede and bog down the much heavier Hummer.

The driver of the Taurus, however, had judged it to perfection. While the soft sand had slowed the Taurus down and threatened to bog them in as well, the lighter vehicle had managed to make more distance on the softer surface and just about made it back onto the track that they had crossed over a few moments ago.

There was nothing else for the occupants of the Hummer to do but watch as the green Taurus made it back to the original track and speed off back to the road.

"Who's got the radio?" Asked a subdued Captain Densham.

"You have, sir!" Said a dejected voice from the back.


	13. 09:50 Cafe Rouge, San Francisco

_09:50. Café Rouge, San Francisco._

O'Neill and Daniel Jackson threaded their way through tables and chairs that had been laid out on the plaza outside Café Rouge. There was only a few patrons this early in the morning and they chose to sit at a table that was surrounded by empty tables.

They were both wearing non-descript civilian clothing and Daniel sat down and watched as O'Neill, after taking a deep lungful of the tangy sea air and exhaling loudly, took of his circular sunglasses and proceeded to clean them. "So, why have we been dragged all the way out to San Francisco again?"

O'Neill checked the cleaning job on his sunglasses and then looked at a pretty waitress as she made her way over towards them. "Oh, you know Maybourne and his flair for the dramatic."

The waitress arrived and gave them a bright smile. "Hi! My name is Cheryl and I'll be your waitress this morning. What can I get for you?"

"Hey Cheryl!" Said O'Neill with a smile. "I'll have a coffee please, one of those frothy ones with the chocolate on the top."

"A Cappuccino?" Asked Cheryl with a strong Southern twang to her accent.

"That's the one!" Replied O'Neill.

"Ok sir!" She turned to Daniel. "And you?"

"Two!" Said Daniel, holding up two fingers to emphasize the point.

"Thank you! I'll get those for you right away." Said Cheryl turning back to the Café.

"Thank you!" Shouted O'Neill to her retreating back; though it wasn't her back he was looking at. He turned to Daniel. "Do I look like a Colonel to you, she called me 'sir'?"

"She's from Oklahoma! They call all you older guys 'sir' down there."

O'Neill's forehead creased as his eyebrows went up. "Older guys?"

Daniel's eyes flicked to the right and then back again. "You're older than me!" He said with a frown.

"Yeah, but 'older guys'?"

Their attention was drawn to the next table by the scraping of a chair across the concrete floor. "Morning!" Said Maybourne as he sat down. "Not disturbing anything, am I?"

"Nothing that won't wait till later." Replied O'Neill.

"Good to see you Jack!" Said Maybourne. "Dr Jackson!"

Daniel gave him a cursory nod, while O'Neill was a little more openly hostile. "You wanna tell me what the hell we're doing all the way out here in Frisco?"

"Now Jack," said Maybourne as he watched Cheryl exit the café with two mugs on a tray, "are you always this friendly with people who are just trying to help?"

"Only the ones I like!" He replied with a humourless smile.

"I'm surprised the Tok'ra are still speaking to you."

"Now, you didn't drag us all the way out here just to discuss my bedside manner, did you?"

"No, I didn't!" Said Maybourne as he watched Cheryl put the two coffee mugs on the table. "I can't believe you came to the Café Rouge and just ordered coffee. They do the best English Breakfast on the entire Western Seaboard!"

"Can I get you anything Sir?" Asked Cheryl of the newcomer.

"I'll have a full English with coffee, black!"

"Coming right up!" Said Cheryl, making a note of Maybourne's order in her notebook before turning away.

"See!" Said O'Neill quietly to Daniel. "She called him 'sir' too."

Daniel's eyes narrowed slightly. "Jack, he's older than you are!"

O'Neill paused for a moment. "You're not making any friends here 'Daniel'!"

"So, what are we doing here?" Asked Daniel, quickly turning to Maybourne.

"How's the investigation going?" Asked Maybourne as he leaned forward on the table.

"Slowly!" Replied Daniel. "You didn't exactly give us much to go on."

"'That's' what we're doing here!"

Daniel thought for a moment. "All the pieces that were taken, they all came from here?"

"From one warehouse, here in San Francisco."

O'Neill picked up his coffee. "Where in San Francisco?"

"The naval stockyards at Alameda!"

"Alameda?" Said O'Neill incredulously. "You had a secret warehouse, full of stolen alien technology, and you had it in the middle of a naval base?"

"A disused naval base!" Said Maybourne defensively. "Even disused, it's still one of the safest places in the country."

"Huh, beg to differ!" Said Daniel. When the two men turned to him, he looked at them sheepishly. "Sorry!"

"You've got class Maybourne, I'll say that for you!" Said O'Neill settling back in his chair. "Class and brass."

"Wait a minute." Interrupted Daniel. "I thought the NID were a civilian operation? How did a civilian operation get a warehouse on a military base?"

"Civilians can have connections too!" Replied Maybourne.

"Kinsey!" Said O'Neill after a moment's thought. "Kinsey did it for you, didn't he?"

"I wouldn't know Jack. There are some pieces of information that I'm not privy to."

"It was him, the rat bastard!" O'Neill narrowed his eyes as he regarded Maybourne. "Information you're not privy to?"

"Do you know everything there is to know about the Stargate program?"

"I know everything I need to know."

"But that isn't everything there is to know, is it?" Said Maybourne as he watched Cheryl bringing his breakfast over. "Well, it's the same for me."

As Cheryl was giving Maybourne his food, O'Neill looked at Daniel who shrugged his shoulders. They waited until the waitress had gone back to the café before continuing. "Ok Maybourne, we'll play it your way. I'll contact Hammond and get us clearance to enter the base..!"

"Why wait?" Interrupted Maybourne. "I can get us onto the base. I can get us in the warehouse too."

"Won't that be a little dangerous for you?" Asked Daniel. "Once your NID buddies find out that you were the one helping us, won't they come looking for you?"

"Yes they will, Dr Jackson!" Said Maybourne with a mouth full of bacon. "But the NID has had its day so I don't intend to hang around. I have other interests that demand my attention. Besides, this little episode has left the NID in total disarray. By the time they get themselves sorted out, I'll be long gone."

"How are you going to get us in?" Asked O'Neill.

"We were in and out of there all the time. I'll just show the guard my pass and we'll walk in! The arrival of three men won't cause much of a disturbance."

"Four men and one woman." Corrected O'Neill.

"Ah, I was wondering what had happened to the other two?"

O'Neill finished his coffee. "Well, Carter is over with the guy you had at the newspaper stand and Teal'c is with the two you had in the van, one of whom appears to be sleeping." He gave Maybourne a big grin.

"Well, that's not good!" Said Maybourne calmly. "You see, I didn't bring anyone with me."

For some reason O'Neill felt compelled to believe him.


	14. 16:50 Eastside Dock, Chicago

_16:40. Eastside Docks, Chicago._

Krychek made his way down the dank, musty corridor of the derelict Southern Pride. Outside, the temperature was warm with bright sunshine, but down here the air was cool, almost cold.

At the doorway to the containers, he punched in the access code, stepped inside the narrow space beyond and entered the containers after the outside door slid silently closed. Again the waiting area was empty, as were the first couple of containers.

He reached the container where Anton had been studying the Stasis Chamber and moved quietly up to the entrance. The excited voicemail message he had received off Anton had said that he had managed to work out the control system and that, by the time Krychek had reached the Southern Pride; he would be able to tell him how it worked.

He peered around the corner but could see no sign of Anton. He entered the container and walked over to the white board, glancing at the entrance to the next container as he went. Krychek had never had much of a head for math, so all the lines, squiggles and numbers were a foreign language to him.

He noticed a flashing on the computer screen and bowed down to have a closer look. The intricate diagram was the same as the last time he had been here, but now one of the thin golden pathways was flashing. Krychek guessed that this must be what Anton had found and wanted to show him.

He looked up at the entrance to the next container. There was a gaunt silence about the containers that was disquieting, despite the containers being quiet at the best of times. He walked over to the entrance. He had expected Anton to be nervously pacing this lab, eager to tell him of all he had discovered; he usually did when he got excited over his research. It was a first for him to actually move on to something else without Krychek having to calm him down and telling him to do so.

He entered the next container, which appeared just as he had left it, even down to the now empty cage in the corner. Still no Anton, so he moved on to the next, also the last, container that was basically a storage unit.

Still no Anton.

Krychek's emotions flicked between suspicion as to what had happened and concern for Anton, though the last was only because he didn't know where else he would get a research scientist with Anton's abilities that wouldn't ask all the questions that Krychek would have to avoid answering without raising suspicions.

He tried to think things through logically. Anton wouldn't have left the laboratories, the man usually slept on the chairs in the waiting area, so he wouldn't go home just after making an important discovery. If he needed anything for his work, he could find it here in the storage unit or, if they were out, he would get Krychek to bring it in for him. There was no sign of a struggle in any of the labs either. Even if he had somehow been taken by surprise, Anton was a trained Martial Artist that just looked like a nerd, there was no way he would have gone down without a fight.

Krychek, deep in thought, walked out of the storage container, through the next container and suddenly stopped in the doorway of the Stasis Chamber lab.

Anton was standing next to the computer with his back to Krychek.

"Anton? Where have you been?" Asked Krychek stepping into the lab.

Anton slowly turned and looked at Krychek as if trying to remember who he was. He was wearing one of the alien devices, a golden glove-like device with a red crystal in the centre of the palm, on his right hand. In his left he carried the Stasis Chamber, though it looked as though it had been broken and all that was left was the Obsidian block with the three prongs embedded in it.

"Anton?" Krychek narrowed his eyes as he looked at the lab technician before him. Something was definitely wrong here, not only in the way he seemed to be struggling to remember who he was, but also in the stiff manner of his movements. He looked as though he was trying to get used to controlling his own body. "Anton, what happened to the chamber?"

Anton slowly looked down at the block of black marble in his hand. He suddenly raised it above his head and smashed it on the floor with a snarl of rage contorting his face. He looked up at Krychek, all stiffness now gone from his movements. When he spoke, it was in a deep voice that seemed almost two-toned. "Jaffa kree! What is this place?"

Krychek was so stunned by this that all he could do was stare open-mouthed. His ability to move was lessened even more as Anton's eyes began to glow with a strange, un-earthly light.

"Where am I Jaffa, and where is Anubis?" Said Anton as he slowly raised his golden-gloved hand.

Krychek stared at the red crystal in the middle of Anton's palm, a crystal that now had a faint yellow glow in its centre. His shocked mind was racing, trying to process all the information it had just taken in while trying to decide what had happened, let alone what to do next. "Er, who? Anubis?"

Anton smiled at Krychek, but it was a smile without humour. "Come to Buluc-Chastan! Kneel before your God."

This strange command gave some of his faculties back to Krychek. "I'll kneel to no man!"

The smile on Anton's face was replaced with a look of cold contempt. "Then die!"

Krychek never saw even a hint of movement from Anton, yet something slammed into him hard enough to lift him off his feet and throw him through the air to smash into the corrugated wall of the container with an echoing crash. He dropped to the floor and lay perfectly still.

In the recesses of his own mind, the few fragments of control that were still Krychek receded even further to the overpowering consciousness of the organism that now dominated and controlled him. The few pieces of Humanity that was all that was left of Alex Krychek could feel the body that once belonged to him begin to slowly get to it's feet and stand, leaning on the wall of the container with one hand and with the other on his knee.

Buluc-Chastan watched the Jaffa before him stand and lean on the wall with his back to him. In days gone by, he would have had this Jaffa flayed alive for such insolence. But this one interested him. There was strength in his slight figure and Buluc-Chastan needed to test his own strengths.

He watched as the man, whom the host called Lee Firman, slowly turned to face him again. Buluc-Chastan decided that he would enjoy teaching him how to behave before his God.

As the eyes that had once belonged to Anton Duvall flashed their strange white glow, so the eyes that had once belonged to Alex Krychek drained of all colour as thick, black oil began to flow behind the clear curves of the eyes lenses.


	15. 17:30 Alameda Shipyards, San Francisco

_17:30. Alameda Shipyards, San Francisco._

O'Neill walked through the deserted shipyards next to Maybourne, with the rest of SG1 following just behind. Most of the Alameda docks were now disused, however certain warehouses and workshops still had signs of being operational, though most of these were now seemed deserted as well due to all the workers having gone home for the night.

O'Neill glanced over at Maybourne. "So. You wanna tell me why you've got the NSA on your case?

"It's a new one on me Jack, really!" Answered Maybourne. He glanced nervously at Teal'c walking behind him. He could feel the unfriendly stare of the Jaffa warrior boring into his back. "I swear I don't know what they were doing there. The NID have never had any dealings with the NSA, as far as I'm aware they don't even know we exist."

"NSA, NID, SGC, FBI! There's a whole goddamn alphabet of agencies out there and we're slap bang in the middle of them. This whole thing has the potential for getting very messy, real quick!"

Maybourne pointed to a warehouse across the way. "That's the warehouse, over there."

"Who are we going to find in there, the NFL? WWE?" O'Neill turned to his team. "Be ready for anything, and if it's the KKK, don't hesitate!"

He led them quickly across the road and they all pressed their backs against the warehouse wall. O'Neill took out a slim periscope, put it up to a high window and looked through the eyepiece. He signalled to the rest of the team that it was too dark to see properly, so they should use caution once on the inside. He then stood back while Maybourne opened the door.

Once inside, they all fanned out with Maybourne following O'Neill to the left and the rest of SG1 going to the right of the door. They all crouched down and waited for their eyes to adjust to the gloom of the warehouse interior before moving deeper into the packing crates.

They followed Maybourne as he led them through the warehouse towards the office. Once there, O'Neill told Carter and Teal'c to sweep the warehouse to make sure no one else was there while he, Maybourne and Daniel went inside.

After a quick check of the office to make sure no one was inside, O'Neill turned to Maybourne. "Ok, what now?"

Maybourne flexed his fingers. "Now we see if they've cleaned house yet!" He sat down at a desk, switched on a computer and was soon tapping away at the keyboard. "Well, the NID's consignments are still here, pretty much ever.., oh this isn't good!"

"What isn't good?" Asked O'Neill.

"The Hierarchy have sent in an outside agent for the investigation."

"What does that mean?"

Maybourne looked up from the screen he was studying. "It means that any progress is being done outside the NID. Without knowing who the outside agent is, I'm pretty much locked out with no way of getting any more information."

Daniel moved around the desk to look at the monitor. "Is there no way of finding out who the agent is?"

"Not from here! When the Hierarchy go outside the NID, they do it directly. It's the only way of being totally secure."

O'Neill looked around the office. "So it's a dead end?"

"All I can do from here is tell you what's missing."

O'Neill's radio crackled with static just before Teal'c's voice spoke. "O'Neill?"

O'Neill hit the transmit button. "Yeah Teal'c, go!"

"I have found a body, north east quarter of the building!"

"Alright, don't touch anything! Carter! Teal'c's six, I'll meet you there!"

Carter's voice came over the radio. "On my way!"

"You two stay here! Get what you can and I'll meet you back here." With that, O'Neill turned, walked out of the office and headed towards Teal'c's location. He found the Jaffa standing over Carter, who was kneeling over the body of a middle-aged silver haired man in a check shirt. "What have we got?" When Major Carter began giving an unnecessary description of the body, he pointed to his eyes and said, "Carter, these work! Tell me what I don't know."

"Sorry sir. He's been dead for a couple of days, rigours pronounced and the body's fluids have started to pool. He died from a single gun shot wound to the head, the gun used was a 9mm Beretta."

"How do you know that?"

"The murder weapon is on the floor over there, sir!" She pointed to a handgun a few feet away from the body.

O'Neill went over to the weapon and shone his flashlight on it. "Serial numbers have been filed off, can virtually guarantee that there's no prints. Definitely a professional job! Any i.d. on the body?" He asked as he stood up again.

"No sir, his pockets are clean. Hang on, he's got something in his hand!" She leaned over and pried the man's fingers open. She removed a small slip of paper and straightened it out.

"What's it say?" Asked O'Neill.

Carter frowned. "It just says 'Southern Pride'!"

"Southern Pride, what's that?"

Carter shrugged her shoulders. She glanced around at the surrounding crates. "A cargo maybe? It sounds like a whiskey!"

"Alright, come on. It's safe to say there's no one else around. Let's go see what Maybourne has to say."

When they got back to the office, they found Maybourne still at the computer and Daniel reading a printed list. He gave a sheet of paper to O'Neill. "These are all the items that were taken." He gave him two more sheets of paper. "These are all the items still in the warehouse."

O'Neill gave both lists a quick look through. "My, haven't we been busy?" He handed the lists back to Daniel and looked down at Maybourne. "There's a dead guy out there! Middle aged, about five ten, check shirt and jeans..!"

"Sommerstein!" Maybourne interrupted, a pained look on his face. "He ran the warehouse, both the NID and the civilian sides."

"He used to " Said O'Neill a little coldly.

"I've known Sommerstein for years, he was a good man! He didn't deserve that."

"I'd say the NID disagree."

"No! This wasn't NID. We don't treat our own people like that. But we do deal with some rather unscrupulous people." Maybourne looked down at the monitor again. "He didn't deserve that!" He said in a quiet voice.

Carter moved forward. "Then help us! We found a slip of paper in his hand, do you know what it means?"

Maybourne took the slip and looked at it. "Southern Pride?" He turned back to the keyboard and started hitting keys again. "It's nothing to do with the NID," he said after a moment and then paused again, "nor is it any cargo in the warehouse!" He stood up and moved over to Sommerstein's desk. He switched on the computer and, while it booted up, he looked up at O'Neill, a deep sadness in his eyes. "Have I done it yet Jack? Now that you know I no longer work for the NID, have I earned the right to be left alone?"

Something in Maybourne's haunted eyes touched O'Neill deep in his soul. In his long career, he had seen that look a thousand times. He still saw it occasionally, usually when he looked in a mirror. He didn't trust the man sat behind the desk, he also knew that by giving his guarantee, there was an increased chance that Maybourne would run out on them the first chance he got. Yet, he felt compelled to give it anyway. "You have my word!"

The rest of his team turned and looked at him in surprise. As one, they turned back to Maybourne, who simply turned back to the computer without a word.

"I have a question!" Said Daniel. He waited for Maybourne to look up at him before continuing. "The security breaches at the SGC, who was behind them?"

"Probably Firman, creating a diversion to draw attention away from what he was doing here. The hacking job on the SGC's live feed certainly had the Hierarchy looking elsewhere!"

"Those FBI agents?" Asked O'Neill.

"There's no telling who got a hold of those pictures, including the FBI." He looked down at the screen again. "Ok, whoever killed Sommerstein also tried to cover up what he was working on! But, they did a botch job of wiping the memory. I think I can call up the last couple of entries." His brow furrowed in concentration as he worked the keyboard and the mouse together. "Here we go!" He leaned forward a little as he read the monitor. "It looks like Sommerstein found the Southern Pride. It's an old freighter in Chicago's Eastside Dock. It used to run cargo across Lake Michigan until it was decommissioned a couple of years ago. Now it's just been left to rot." He tapped a few more keys. "Saying that, it looks like someone has taken an interest in her again. It was recently bought by someone..," he leaned back in his chair, "by Lee Firman!"

Carter turned to O'Neill. "It's probably safe to assume that the bad guys know about it too, sir!"

O'Neill nodded his head and turned to Maybourne. "Can you get anything else off that thing?"

"What else do you want?"

O'Neill shrugged. "Off to the Windy City then! Wanna come?"

Maybourne looked up. "Do I get a gun?"


	16. 21:30 Eastside Dock, Chicago

_21:30. Eastside Dock, Chicago._

It was cold down here in the darkness of the Southern Pride's lower decks and Mulder felt a chill run down his spine as, in spite of wearing a jumper under his leather jacket, goose-bumps rose on his skin as the clammy atmosphere worked its way through his clothes.

He now regretted leaving Scully at the Chicago field office where he had told her to contact A.D. Skinner with a progress report. He decided that the fact that he had driven all last night and most of today, and the resulting tiredness, was to blame for his lack of judgement and he wished that he had listened to her protests at him going alone to search for the Southern Pride. It now looked like it could have been a bad idea after all.

His eyes followed the beam of his flashlight as it illuminated rusted pipes, half rotted lagging and rust-streaked steel walls. He'd carried out a cursory search of the ship as he had moved through it, looking for a way to the cargo hold as well as any sign of recent occupation, and had managed to find neither. Finally, after what seemed like hours of searching one filthy corridor after another, he came to the doorway of the hold.

He stepped up to the first of the containers and saw a numeric keypad to the side of the door. The keypad was hanging by its wires and a quick look showed that it had been hotwired. Mulder drew his gun and peered through the half opened door where he saw a narrow space and a second open door with light coming from beyond. He cautiously made his way forward into the empty waiting area.

The waiting area had been totally ransacked and Mulder switched off his flashlight and put it in his pocket as he looked around at the carnage. Holding his gun with both hands, he aimed at the entryway for the next container and moved towards it, pressing himself against the wall as he reached the opening. He looked back at the dishevelled waiting area as he prepared to go through the doorway. All the chairs had been overturned, as had the desk, but he couldn't tell if it was the result of a fight or a hurried and careless search.

Holding his gun before him, he slowly made his way through one container after another. He could see that each one had been kitted out as a laboratory and each one had been well and truly trashed. They looked as though a hurricane had taken a leisurely stroll through each one in turn. All the equipment that each lab had held had been totally destroyed, from the smallest vile and test tube to a state of the art mini electron microscope and all its related computer hardware, nothing had escaped the destruction. The only thing missing was a body.

He cursed himself when he found it. Judging by the bloodstained white coat, the man must have been a lab technician. Mulder saw a hole in the back of his neck and blood in his mouth, and decided that someone had stabbed him from behind and dumped the body under an overturned bench. He couldn't tell how long he'd been dead and decided to leave that bit of the investigation to Scully.

He continued through to the next lab. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but make a noise by standing on pieces of wrecked equipment. Every time he made a noise he would stop and listen to see if anyone had heard and were coming to investigate, but every time his noise was answered with silence.

Eventually, he reached the last of the containers and a quick search of the debris turned up nothing, just as it had with all the others. He took out his cell phone to call Scully and tell her what he, or hadn't, found, but there was no service. He looked around at the steel walls of the container and pictured all the surrounding steel of the ship.

He put the cell phone away again and took another glance around the container before going back the way he had come. He stopped in the second container as a noise came to him. He had been moving carelessly, no longer trying to be quiet because he was on his own here and, if the truth were known, he wasn't even sure that he hadn't spooked himself, but he stood and strained his ears anyway, listening intently for any further noise.

He crouched down and cupped his gun in both hands as another noise came to him from somewhere ahead. Somebody else was definitely in the containers with him now and that same somebody was also trying to move around without making any sound. Mulder took a deep breath to steady his nerves as he looked around the container he was in. The only cover in this lab was an over turned table, next to an empty cage, that was ok to hide behind but wouldn't provide much in the way of safety in the event of a fire-fight, plus it would create all kinds of noise trying to turn it on its side as it was covered in debris.

Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it soon. Whoever was in these containers with him wasn't alone because he could hear at least two voices. There was no way he could have missed two people as he passed through the containers, so the people must have arrived after him, which meant that they would be making their way towards him. Behind him was the storage container with no way out, so there was no point going there. There was no cover where he was, so the only thing left was to go forwards.

He moved to the entrance to the next container, crouched down and waited. The only thing on his side now was the element of surprise and he would have to make the best use of it that he could. He decided to wait until they had entered the container and let them come into the centre. Once there, he would have them out in the open with him behind the corner, under cover. From there, he could still retreat to the last container if needed. There was nothing else he could do.

It only took a minute or two for the first man to appear, though the wait seemed an intolerably long one for Mulder. He took another deep breath and peeped around the corner. There were three men in the container, all looking this way and that, at the wreckage of the lab.

Now or never!

He held the gun around the corner and aimed at the nearest man. "FBI, don't move!" A fourth man had appeared at the entrance and Mulder adjusted his aim to include him as well. "At the back, step inside the container."

Teal'c took one step forward and, because Maybourne, Daniel and O'Neill had, he raised his hands.

"Slowly, take your weapons and place them on the ground."

O'Neill, having put down his Zat gun, spoke as he straitened himself up. "Agent Mulder, right? I'm Colonel O'Neill, United States Air Force."

Seeing that they were now un-armed, Mulder stood up and stepped out from behind the corner. "Air Force? From what I've seen of the Air Force lately, you don't do much flying Colonel."

"That depends on your point of view!" Replied O'Neill with a hint of sarcasm. "You wanna tell..!"

"I'll ask the questions Colonel." Interrupted Mulder.

O'Neill narrowed his eyes and raised his head slightly at Mulder's tone. A slight movement to his left caused him to glance briefly at Teal'c and he returned his attention to Mulder.

"What are you doing here, Colonel? What's the Air Force's interest in this?"

"Some equipment of ours recently went missing, our investigations have led us here."

"What equipment?"

"Technical stuff! Classified, technical, stuff." Said O'Neill uncertainly.

Mulder, still covering them all with his gun, gave a wry smile. "Now Colonel, we can make this official if you want, but I don't think that General Hammond will be all that impressed. Do you?"

Before O'Neill could answer, there was an electronic whine and a blue beam of light from a Zat blast enveloped Mulder, causing him to drop his weapon before collapsing to the floor.

O'Neill turned to Teal'c, who was looking down as a Zat was pulled back from between his legs. The Jaffa then calmly looked up at O'Neill with a raised eyebrow. "How was it for you?" Asked O'Neill with a hint of a smile. "Want a cigarette?"

Teal'c wordlessly turned to Major Carter as she stood up and looked at him sheepishly.

"Sorry Teal'c, lack of options!"

Teal'c simply inclined his head to her.

O'Neill made his way over to Mulder as Maybourne and Daniel helped him up into a sitting position next to the container wall. As he started to come to, Mulder groaned and O'Neill sympathised with him, Zat blasts were notoriously painful. "Take it easy, Agent Mulder, it'll pass."

"Ugh, what was that?" Asked a groggy Mulder with his head in his hands.

"The latest in Tazer technology," replied O'Neill, "no wires!" He gave Daniel a helpless look. "You'll be alright in a couple of minutes. You didn't really give us much choice, you know!"

Mulder looked up and saw Major Carter for the first time. She gave him an apologetic look and he grimaced. "That's the second time I've been shot by a woman. So, what happens now?"

O'Neill looked around at the others. "Well, you can start by telling us where your partner is?"

"In the Chicago field office." Said Mulder rubbing his neck.

"What were you doing at Cheyenne Mountain?"

"Sight seeing!"

O'Neill pursed his lips and looked down at the ground. "Ok, Agent Mulder, like you said, we can make this official if you want. We can take you back to Cheyenne Mountain and ask these questions in front of a full military tribuneral. Let's see, the hacking of official government computer files, stealing said files and trespassing on a military base. I'd say there's enough there for a charge of Treason at least."

Mulder's anger made him forget his discomfort for a moment. "And what about what goes on at that base? There's an awful lot of tax dollars gets pumped into that base for you to maintain a lie about what goes on there. I don't see you telling people that you're opening wormholes that could destroy this entire continent if you made one small mistake, or that you knowingly bring Extra-Terrestrials onto your base from whatever planet they come from. You want to make it official 'Colonel' O'Neill? Well let's talk about official government conspiracies to hide the truth from the American people, how some of our own top ranking people are officiating a lie to cover up that they are working with those Extra-Terrestrials to bring about the colonization of this planet and the eventual eradication of the general population, all so that they can keep themselves and 'their' families safe from the plague that those aliens are ready to unleash."

"What the hell are you talking about Mulder? What plague? The Goa'uld aren't interested in colonizing this planet, they want to dominate it and enslave the people. They want us to worship them as Gods!"

As Mulder was about to answer, Carter stepped forward. "Wait a minute sir. Who wants to colonise the planet, Agent Mulder?"

"The Greys!" Said Mulder, recognition briefly flashing in his eyes as he looked up at Carter. "They've been abducting people for years and carrying out test, trying to study us to find our weaknesses."

O'Neill gave a derisive laugh. "The Asgard? They're one of our biggest allies for God's sake! They made this world a protected planet."

"The Asgard? As in Odin and the other Norse Gods?" Said Mulder, his face an incredulous mask.

"Where do your Greys come from?" Asked Carter.

"We're not sure but we think they come from the Reticulan system."

"They're not the same!" Said Carter, her eyes bright with the dawning realisation.

"Carter?" Said O'Neill, waiting for an explanation.

"Sir, the Reticulan system is on the opposite side of the galaxy to the Asgard's domain. We could be looking at an off-shoot of the same species, but two different peoples." When O'Neill simply raised an eyebrow, she continued. "It's like us and the Jaffa. Both Human, both different. Both of us are branches of the same species."

"FBI, I'm armed! Nobody move." Shouted Scully from the doorway.

Teal'c suddenly dived to his left and landed, in a pile of debris, behind a metal trolley. He raised his Zat gun and aimed at the doorway just as Scully brought her gun around to follow him.

"No Scully, don't shoot!" Shouted Mulder.

Teal'c stop!" Shouted O'Neill at the same time.

Neither weapon fired.

Scully, in total confusion, was swinging her gun between Teal'c and the group of people who were still standing over her partner. "Mulder, what's going on?" She shouted, her voice quivering from nerves, excitement and fear.

"Scully, it's ok!" Said Mulder coming to his feet and looking up at O'Neill. He nodded his head for assurance.

O'Neill returned the gesture. "Teal'c, stand down. Come out here."

Teal'c got to his knees. "O'Neill, there is something here that you should see." He said, looking down at the ground in front of him.

"I'll say!" Said Daniel as he bent down to pick up a large piece of black marble with gold writing on it.

Because Teal'c was the closer of the two, O'Neill went to him as Scully warily entered the container. "What have you got Teal'c?" He looked down in front of where the Jaffa was kneeling and saw a large black box with a digital readout in its centre. The red LED readout showed 2:19 and was counting down.


	17. 21:55 Outside the offices of The Lone Gu...

_21:55. Outside the offices of The Lone Gunman, Washington D.C._

Langley turned the dirty grey Ford pick-up left into Industrial Avenue and headed up the short hill towards the industrial estate at the top. He, Biers and Frohike had left early that morning to drive out to Baltimore, where they were to meet with one of Frohike's connections. It had taken them all day to gather the GPS equipment they had ordered and get it all back to the office. Now, after listening to Biers and Frohike bickering all day, he was getting to the end of his tether. "Guys!" He yelled. When they both turned to him in shocked silence, he looked at them with a glare that was nuclear powered. When he spoke, however, his voice was calm. "You both make valid points. As a relative outsider to the discussion, who's spent the entire day listening to both sides, I can honestly say, with total clarity, that we will probably never know, for absolute certainty, whether or not Rick Deckard was a Replicant, no matter how many times you see Blade Runner." He took a deep breath for the yell. "So shut the hell up!"

The two protagonists gave each other a 'what's up with him' look, but remained mercifully quiet. Instead, now that they were in the industrial area near the office, they turned their attention to checking to see if anyone was hanging around.

The industrial area was relatively new and was built after a number of tenement blocks had been levelled. The Lone Gunman office was in a part of the estate where three of the old buildings had been left standing and turned into offices. The three buildings formed a U shape with access to the buildings gained by a short cul-de-sac. The front of all the buildings faced onto the cul-de-sac, with their office being at the end of the short road so that they could see to its end from inside.

It was to these buildings that Langley drove. When he reached the top of the cul-de-sac, he drove a short way passed, threw the pick-up into reverse and backed down a road that was little more than a dimly lit alleyway.

The short road ended a good distance away from their door and had bollards around its edge; otherwise Langley would have mounted the curb and driven right up to their door. As usual, he cursed the planners and builders who had stopped him from doing just that.

The three men got out and went around to the back of the truck where they all began to unfasten a dusty tarpaulin cover sheet. Biers looked at all the boxes under the dark green sheet. "Anybody have any idea where we're going to put all this stuff?"

"Conference Suite?" Suggested Langley, looking around for approval.

"Who cares? That's tomorrow's job!" Said Frohike. "Let's just get it all inside then we can go home. I'm beat!"

Biers and Langley exchanged looks before wholly agreeing. They threw back the tarpaulin sheet and grabbed an armful of boxes each. "Who's got the keys?" Asked Langley as they started for the office.

"You have!" Said Biers and Frohike together.

"We are gonna kick some serious butt with this stuff!" Said Frohike with a grin. " Just wait till Mulder find..!"

Nighttime turned briefly to day as a bright white flash illuminated the three office blocks. A fraction of a second later, the three men with their bundles of equipment were lifted from their feet by a blast wave of hot air that threw them backwards and left them sprawling on the floor, except for Biers who slammed into the tailgate of the pick-up truck. He dropped and lay motionless, face down on the floor.

Amongst flying glass, burning wood and other debris, Frohike scrambled around to the front of the pick-up for cover. He saw Langley lying on the floor with his arms protectively over his head and lunged forward, grabbed him and dragged him to relative safety. Both men, who had both lost their glasses, huddled together as chunks of masonry rained down all around them for what seemed an impossibly long time.

Langley, blood pouring from the side of his head where a piece of glass had bounced off his skull, shouted at Frohike. "Where's Biers?"

But Frohike could hear nothing, his ears ringing from the noise of the explosion. Without his glasses, he couldn't even see what Langley had said and just sat where he was with his hands on his head.

With the debris finally ceasing to fall, Langley pulled himself up and, leaning on the pick-up for support, staggered around to the back. He dropped down next to the motionless figure and put his fingers to Biers' neck. He panicked when he couldn't feel anything, but found his pulse on the second attempt.

Even from this distance, he could feel the heat coming from the burning offices and turned around to look at the flames belching out of the blackened building. He could vaguely hear the wailing of alarms coming from the other buildings, all of which had windows blown out from the force of the explosion. A large piece of masonry landed on the rubble-strewn walkway in front of him. So, with the very real possibility that the building might collapse at any moment, he grabbed Biers arm to drag him to safety, just as Frohike arrived and grabbed his other arm to help.

Once they were a safe distance away, they sat and watched as orange and red flames caused the shadows around them to dance and flicker. Langley gingerly touched the wound on the side of his head and then looked at the blood on his dirty fingers.

Frohike leaned forward and checked the wound. He leaned back and looked at Langley. "You'll be ok." When Langley shook his head and shrugged his shoulders to tell him that he couldn't hear anything, Frohike nodded his understanding before looking back at the burning building. As the fire reflected in Frohike's eyes, there was only one thing that he could be sure of, that providence had smiled on them this day. It was the only reason that they were still alive.


	18. 21:57 Eastside Dock, Chicago

_21:57. Eastside Dock, Chicago._

"Bomb!" Shouted O'Neill as he turned to the people behind him. "Evac now!"

Daniel, who was crouched down, looked up and said, "Give me a minute."

"Now Daniel." Said O'Neill grabbing the man's arm and almost throwing him through the labs doorway. "Bombs don't come with pause buttons."

Having just arrived, Scully took the lead, as the route out would be freshest in her mind. At least that was the thought that came to the fore as she shouted for everyone to follow her.

She ran through the containers and turned right into the corridor outside the hold. The passageway they were in wasn't very high and, despite her being the smallest of the group, Scully still ducked as she ran. She soon came to where two corridors intersected and almost panicked as she realised that she couldn't remember which way she had come. A split second later she had turned to the right and was pounding along the metal grills that made up the walkway in this corridor.

The noise of seven people running over metal grills in boots and hard soled shoes was deafening as the sounds echoed off steel walls and ceiling to create a cacophony that assaulted the senses and served to create more confusion in an already embattled mind.

But Scully fought through the panic and the fear. She saw a metal staircase ahead of her through a doorway that led to a large room and, once through the door, took the steps two at a time. She led the group over a gangway that crossed a bundle of large pipes and, once down the other side, turned left up another corridor that looked exactly the same as the last, filled with rotted lagging and rusted walls and pipe work.

Maybe it was because she was running, but Scully could have sworn that the staircase she was looking for was further up the corridor. As it was, it was on her before she knew it and she almost sped right passed. Seeing it at the last moment, she managed to duck into the shaft-like staircase and collided heavily with the wall. She gave a loud grunt as the air erupted from her lungs, but carried on regardless.

Again taking the steps two at a time, she forced herself to keep going and to keep up the pace. As she ran, her mind was in conflict. She felt a responsibility for the six people behind her, felt that they were relying on her to keep going, to show them the way out and get them to safety. But she couldn't help feeling that she was slowing them down as well, especially now that she was fighting for breath after impacting on the wall. She knew that they only had two minutes to get off the ship and get to safety because the tall Colonel had shouted it as they ran and she felt the seconds draining away with every heartbeat. What had it been, a minute? A minute and a half?

She wasn't sure.

She reached the top of the stairs and entered a short passageway that led to the Bridge and could see the darkness outside through the grimy windows. By now, her left arm had gone numb from banging into the wall and a stitch burned white hot in her side. Scully pushed herself even harder, sucking air into her tortured lungs, forcing leaden legs to pump harder and faster.

She burst onto the bridge and had to grab the doorframe to swing herself round to the right. She slammed into the door that led from the Bridge onto a small landing at the top of a metal staircase that led down to the deck. She was showered with glass as the window in the door shattered and there was a loud snap as one of the hinges on the door broke in half. Picking each step as she went, Scully leaped and bounded down the steps and managed to reach the bottom without falling.

She rounded a left-hand corner and saw the open deck in front of her. As she ran, she risked a glance behind. She saw a blonde haired woman behind her, a bearded man behind her and Mulder behind him. Of the other three there was no sign and Scully assumed that they were still coming down the stairs and, sure enough, one of them, the big dark skinned man, suddenly appeared from behind the grey metal wall.

Scully reached the top of the gangway and ran down, realising as she went that the bottom of the gangway ran alongside the hold. How much time left? It could only be scant seconds now and there were seven of them to get down that gangway and get to cover. She couldn't help but feel that they were being toyed with. That, no sooner would they reach the bottom and set foot on solid ground, as soon as they could finally move away from that terrible wreck of a ship and make for safety, then it would blow, taking her, Mulder and the others with it. Only when the spark of hope ignited in their eyes would it finally take them, snuffing them out with a violent ignition of its own.

Now was that moment. Scully leapt off the gangway and almost stumbled as her weakened, aching legs absorbed the impact of landing on solid concrete.

"Break right!" Said a voice from somewhere behind and above. "Behind the warehouse."

Scully was grateful for the instruction. Her tired mind had had enough of leading and wanted someone else to take over. But, as she was in the lead, this was the next best thing. As she ran for the warehouse, she became aware of others around her. She heard Mulder's voice from somewhere just behind her say, "Go Scully, go!" Then she was running up the side of the darkened warehouse, where her legs finally gave way and she went down to bounce hard on the tarmac walkway.

She threw her hands over her ears just as the roar of the explosion followed the bright white flash. Scully felt somebody land next to her and put an arm protectively around her. She heard a loud whizzing noise pass over her and things began to land on top of her. She would have screamed, wanted to scream, but simply couldn't get the air into her lungs to create any noise with. More and more things were landing on top of her, the weight pressing her down, making the hard job of breathing even harder.

The smell of smoke came to her, acrid and suffocating. She could see flashes of orange and yellow, but her confused mind couldn't make out any kind of detail. The weight on top of her increased again as something else came down and the flickering orange glow increased its intensity. Every breath burned and choked, her vision swam between orange and dark, dark black. More movement from above and she felt more pressure pressing her further and further down, squeezing her very life away.

"Scully?"

"Mulder?" She cried weakly.

"Scully?" Shouted Mulder again, his voice coming from so far away.

More movement from above, but this time some of the weight was taken away. A deep voice she didn't recognize spoke from beside her.

"Here!"

Bright light flared as all the debris suddenly disappeared off her. She looked up as Mulder knelt down beside her. "Alright Scully, I'm here, I've got you!" He helped her to kneel up and she stayed on all fours, trying to get her breath back. She looked to her right and saw Teal'c also on his knees, blood flowing from a number of cuts on his bald head and his arms.

As she felt Mulder's hand fall lightly on her shoulder, she turned to him and saw concern for her in his eyes, shining as bright as the myriad fires that burned all around them. "I'm ok Mulder, just a little winded and shaken that's all. I'll be fine!" She turned to Teal'c as they both stood at the same time. "Thank you!"

Teal'c turned to her and silently inclined his head to her.

"Are you alright?" Asked Mulder.

"I am well!" Replied Teal'c. He looked at Carter who had appeared behind Mulder and then slowly turned back to the FBI Agent. "For your concern, my thanks."

Carter came and stood next to the Jaffa. She turned to the two Agents after Teal'c nodded his assurance that he was ok. "We should move away from here. The warehouse shielded us from most of the blast, but the wall could come down at any moment." She looked at Scully. "Can you walk?"

Scully nodded. "Yeah!"

They moved to the opposite side of a narrow road that ran between two warehouses where O'Neill was tending to a nasty gash on Maybourne's arm. Daniel was hunkered down next to the injured Maybourne and was studying some pieces of black marble in his hand. As they approached, Scully saw a large piece of steel plate embedded in the brick wall, roughly three feet above the ground and wondered if that was what had made the whizzing noise as it passed overhead. She had a feeling that they had all been very lucky indeed.

The sound of wailing sirens could be heard in the long distance as they reached the three men. O'Neill ripped the end of the field dressing he was putting on Maybourne's arm, causing the bearded man to flinch and look up at him with a scowl. "Aah easy Jack!"

O'Neill scowled back at him. "Baby." He said as he turned to the new arrivals. "Well, is it Sergeant or Agent?"

Mulder was about to give an angry retort when Scully grabbed his hand for support while she sat down next to Maybourne. Once he'd helped her to sit, Mulder stood up and glared at O'Neill.

"Easy Agent!" Said O'Neill, coming over to stand in front of Scully and look down at her. "Are you injured?" He asked, his voice softening a little.

"No!" Replied Scully with a shake of her head.

O'Neill thought for a moment. "You saved the lives of me and my team, oh and Harry there, grateful to ya!"

Scully, totally unprepared for this, simply looked up at him and blinked before saying, "Erm, you're welcome."

"Wow," said Mulder, "that must've hurt."

O'Neill slowly turned to find Mulder grinning like a Cheshire cat. He had an inkling that he wouldn't be liking this man anytime soon.

A loud crack came from behind the two men and everybody looked to see the wall of the warehouse they had all taken refuge behind slowly topple over. Fully half of the warehouse had collapsed or been blown away by the explosion. Beyond the warehouse, there was nothing but empty space.

The Southern Pride had already gone down.


	19. 22:20 2nd Avenue, New York

_22:20. 2nd Avenue, New York._

A man, dressed in the uniform of a waiter, moved from his position next to the door and walked over to an antique Oak table and picked up the ornately decorated receiver of the telephone on it's third ring. He listened to the caller, without offering any kind of greeting, as he surveyed the smoky room's interior.

"One moment!" He said as he picked up a silver tray on which the telephone's cradle sat. He walked across the plush Wilton carpet, passed a couple of old Gentlemen who were relaxing in leather comfy chairs and reading the New York Times while smoking Cuban cigars and sipping Napoleon brandy, before standing next to another comfy chair. He cleared his throat to get the occupant's attention. "A call for you, sir."

CGB Spender took the offered handset, ignoring the waiter and leaving him to stand with the cradle on the tray. "Yes?" He said, taking a drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. He listened in silence for a few moments before speaking in an amused tone that betrayed no sign of the sentiment that usually accompanies the phrase he spoke. "That's terrible! Casualties?" He listened again as the person on the other end of the phone spoke. After a minute or two, he said, "Very well. I'll see you when you get back." He handed the phone back to the waiter without even acknowledging the man's existence.

The waiter simply returned the phone to its cradle before walking silently away.

In the opulently furnished room, fourteen other elderly men were either sitting reading or standing in small groups quietly talking. Spender stood and moved over to a drinks cabinet. When he spoke, he spoke to no one in particular, but he knew he would have everyone's attention. "It would appear that there has been an incident in Washington. The offices of a little known conspiracy magazine were destroyed in an explosion."

A smartly dressed and well-manicured man with neatly combed and oiled silver hair stepped forward. "What kind of explosion?"

"A gas explosion! The offices were in an old converted Tenement building. One of the gas pipes ruptured and the escaping gas was ignited when the central heating came on."

A rotund and softly spoken man looked up from his brandy. "Was anyone killed?"

"No!" replied Spender. He decided to keep quiet about the injured Biers.

"Are the Police investigating?" Asked the softly spoken man.

"It was a gas explosion with no fatalities," replied Spender calmly, "what's to investigate?"

The softly spoken man twirled the brandy around in his glass. "What about the Chicago situation?"

"It has been dealt with." Spender lit another cigarette.

The well-manicured man gave Spender a venomous look and shook his head. "In a like manner, no doubt!"

Spender looked at him. "You asked me to deal with it, I've dealt with it."

"There 'will' be an investigation of the ship." Retorted the silver haired man.

"The ship had recently been insured for well over its value, by me in Krychek's name. Any investigation will be centred on the owner. There is nothing to connect the incident with us or with what we are doing."

The well-manicured man scowled at Spender. When he spoke, his voice was low and filled with contempt. "It sickens me, the barbarous way in which you do things. Every action you take endangers the project and us. You are a liability!"

Spender gave him a calm look and took a pull on his cigarette. "Well, it would appear you no longer require my services. I'm happy to sit back and watch from the sidelines, if that is your wish. But, I would be interested to know who is going to deal with the next complication that arises?" He indicated towards the smartly dressed old man. "You, perhaps?"

The well-manicured man stood and glared at Spender, but said nothing.

The two men stood and glared at each other until a softly spoken voice said, "That's enough! There are other matters of concern to us right now." He turned to a silver haired man sitting in a comfy chair by the window. "What of the NID informant?"

Senator Kinsey turned away from the window. "Harry Maybourne? He is of no further use to us."

The softly spoken man looked at Spender. "Can you deal with this?"

CGB Spender took a last pull on his cigarette while looking at the well-manicured man. As he stubbed the cigarette out, he beckoned to the waiter to bring him the telephone.


	20. 01:22 Yellow Field Motel, Chicago

_01:22. Yellow Field Motel, Chicago._

Mulder looked up at the ceiling of his motel room and pushed his back forwards with his hands. It had turned out to be a cold, icy night, the kind of night when you really didn't need a busted heating unit. Any other night Mulder would have complained, maybe even demanded another room with a working heater, but tonight he'd had enough of complaining and arguing and was in no mood for any more trouble.

After escaping the explosion, they had waited for the Chicago P.D. so that they could tell what they knew, offer to write the requisite report and get the hell out of there. While waiting, Mulder had gone off on his own a short way so as to phone the Gunman and tell them of events, but he couldn't get an answer from them. It was while he was on his own that O'Neill had come over.

"You ringing your lawyer, Agent?" He asked with no hint of a smile.

"Why Colonel? I would have thought you'd already have one." Replied Mulder putting his cell phone back in his pocket. He sat on one of two small walls that made a walkway to the main doors of the darkened warehouse behind them and watched as a group of Firemen began tackling various fires that had sprang up in the aftermath of the blast.

O'Neill glanced at Daniel, who was sat with Teal'c a few feet away to his right. "You're a piece of work Mulder! First you turn up at a military base without authorization and using fake I.D's, then you turn up here where evidence needed for our investigation is subsequently destroyed in an explosion and you don't think you're in any kind of trouble?"

"I was at both locations as part of an official FBI investigation." Said Mulder dismissively. He looked up at O'Neill. "That's the problem, isn't it Colonel? The 'official investigation' bit? You can't afford anything official to happen in connection to your SGC and you're frightened of what I'm going to do. Well," Mulder stood up, "you damn well should be!"

"Don't be an ass, Mulder!" Said O'Neill, squaring up to the FBI Agent. "You can write all the reports you want to, you know as well as I do they'll go absolutely no-where. You can say what you want to who you want. No one will believe you. It's all been tried before and by better men than you."

"You could be right, Colonel. But sooner or later someone is going to make the difference, be the one that does get heard. 'That's' the one that you're afraid of, you and all the others like you who think the American people 'don't need to know'. Maybe you're right, Colonel. Maybe the American people don't need to know, but they damn well deserve to!"

"What do they 'deserve' to know Mulder?"

"The truth!" Yelled Mulder.

"Really?" Shouted O'Neill back. He raised his arm and pointed off to his left. "So you would go out there and tell them, what? That there are aliens out there and yes, they are coming? That these aliens are going to invade this planet and enslave or kill us all? That we're not alone in the universe, but we're gonna wish that we were? And you think that those people out there are gonna thank you for that, do ya? You think that that's what they want to hear because it's the truth?"

Daniel's voice came from behind O'Neill. "Erm, would you like us to go somewhere else so you two can slug it out?"

O'Neill and Mulder both turned and shouted at the same time. "NO!"

Teal'c turned to the man sat at his side. "You are to be congratulated, Daniel Jackson. You actually got them to agree on something."

O'Neill turned back to Mulder. "Whether your wearing a suit or a fake Air Force uniform, I still outrank you Mulder. You're dismissed!" With that, he turned and walked off towards Carter.

After that, the two combatants studiously avoided each other until it was time for them all to leave. Once everything had been cleared with the local P.D, Mulder found the members of SG1 pulling bags out of a Humvee that was on its roof in the middle of a ruined warehouse where it had obviously been left by the explosion. "Yours?" He asked, relishing the question and not trying very hard to hide it.

O'Neill looked at Carter. "You can see why the FBI recruited him, can't you?"

Mulder grinned and put his hand in his pocket. He pulled out a set of keys and tossed them to Daniel. "Green Taurus, parked around back! It's a rental, so just drop it in the local Avis yard when you're done. It's on an open lease to the bureau, so there's no rent to pay."

"Right, thanks." Said Daniel a little uncertainly. He glanced at O'Neill, half expecting to get shouted at for accepting Mulder's help.

"We're going now!" Said Mulder. "I've no doubt that we'll be seeing each other again so, until that happy event, so long!" He turned and walked away without waiting for a response.

He had received another telling off by Scully on the way back to the motel when he told her that he'd given the rental car to 'the flyboys'. Scully quickly realised that, even though there was no rental to pay on the Taurus, there would be a service charge due to the damage, poor condition and extreme mileage on the vehicle and that FBI regulations clearly state that such charges are to be paid by the Agents themselves. She finished her tirade by telling him how disappointed she was in him. When they got back to the motel, however, she did make a point of wishing him a good night, so he felt that things weren't too bad between them.

Once in his room, his shower had been interrupted by a phone call from A.D. Skinner, telling him that he had received a call from the Bureau's Director In Chief informing him that 'he'd' had a call from the Pentagon and that 'he' had put the entire resources of the FBI at the Air Force's disposal for the duration of 'their' investigation. Mulder had a feeling that he'd been correct when he'd told O'Neill that he'd be seeing him again. Apparently, he'd be seeing a lot more of O'Neill because he and Scully were now the FBI's representatives on the case and were to work in tandem with the Air Force's investigative team. After ten minutes of arguing over the phone, Mulder had to relent to Skinner's authority.

The only person he hadn't argued with was Langley, who rang him fifteen minutes after putting the phone down on Skinner. Not only was he dismayed to hear the news about the explosion at their office, he was really upset to hear that Biers had been hurt and promised to get back to D.C. as soon as possible to look into it. He told Langley to tell Biers that he would be checking to see how he was doing until he could get back to see him in person.

It wasn't until he'd put the phone down to Langley that a rather nasty thought occurred to him and it was this idea that now had him staring at the ceiling, trying to think through it.

A knock at the door interrupted his train of thought and he opened it to find Scully looking up at him on the other side. "Can't sleep?" She gave him a half smile and shook her head, so he beckoned for her to come inside.

She sat down on the sofa and looked at the muted TV that was showing a nature programme about Moose. When Mulder offered her a drink of hot milky coffee, she accepted it and took a sip, relishing the hot liquid as it warmed and soothed her from the inside out.

Mulder sat down on the sofa next to her, cupping his own drink in his hands. "I had a call from Langley. There was an explosion at their office last night."

"Oh my God," said Scully in alarm, "are they alright?"

Mulder looked at her and suppressed a smile. He never ceased to be surprised at the level of her compassion for others, in spite of her personal feelings towards them. "Biers is the worst! He's in hospital with concussion and a couple of broken ribs. The other two got away with minor cuts and bruises." He told her what had happened and finished off by telling her the time of the explosion.

"Ten o'clock?" Said Scully, raising an eyebrow.

Mulder nodded. "It was a message, Scully. They're telling us to back off and letting us know that 'they' know just what we are doing."

"I don't know about that Mulder."

"What, you think it was a coincidence? Both bombs going off at the same time?"

"I thought the Gunman's office was a gas explosion?"

"The Gunman's office was an old building and the only one of the three not to have been modernised. Their central heating had to be turned on manually! No one had been to the office all day because they'd all gone to Baltimore. That whole gas explosion thing was set up. Whoever did it must have turned the central heating on, ruptured the gas pipe and made a run for it while the room was filling up with gas. No, it was a message all right, and it was just blind luck that no one was in the building at the time. If the guys had got back five minutes earlier..?" He left the end of his sentence unspoken.

Scully was about to say something else but decided against it. She had learned from experience that once Mulder had proved something to himself, it was the hardest thing in the world to turn him from it. She also knew that he was right more often than he was wrong.

"I've also had a call from Skinner!" Said Mulder with a scowl. "The Director In Chief has handed us over to the military for the duration of the investigation. We're now the Bureau's representatives on the case."

"Well," replied Scully cautiously, "it's not like we couldn't see that one coming!"

That was the signal for another Mulder tirade. He was soon pacing the floor, gesturing his displeasure with his hands, while telling Scully how Colonel O'Neill could say what he wanted, they were going to investigate their case, their way. It didn't matter to him, the D.I.C. could sell out all he wanted but the X-Files weren't for sale, no matter who the buyer was. And, if anyone even imagined that he was going to take orders from some jumped up, air headed Colonel, they were sadly mistaken.

He turned to Scully and looked down at her sleeping form, curled up on his sofa with her left arm under her head. He gazed down at her for a moment or two before going into the bedroom, pulling a blanket off his bed and gently covering her with it. He stood up and looked down at her again. "Goodnight Dana!" He said softly.


	21. 06:15 Yellow Field Motel, Chicago

_06:15. Yellow Field Motel, Chicago._

Mulder was up on his feet by the time of the second knock on his door. He got to the door on the seventh knock and opened it on the eighth to find O'Neill standing on the other side, his hand raised and still trying to give the ninth, tenth and eleventh knock.

O'Neill looked at his hand and lowered it. He gave Mulder a bright smile. "Morning Agent Mulder! Didn't wake you, did we?" He asked, feigning concern.

"Sir!" Said Major Carter from O'Neill's side; giving him a look he'd seen many times before.

O'Neill narrowed his eyes slightly but nodded his head. When he turned back to Mulder, all antagonism was gone, replaced by a serious look. "We need to talk, Agent Mulder."

Mulder had been dreading this moment. He knew that O'Neill wouldn't be able to help but be smug and that he would delight in letting Mulder know all about it. That said, the serious look on the Colonel's face told a different story, one that left Mulder confused. "You'd better come in then Colonel! Oh, and good morning Major."

"Morning!" Replied Carter with a smile that was more good manners than an actual greeting. "If it's all the same to you sir, I'll go and appraise Agent Scully of the current situation." She said to O'Neill.

"Scully's here!" Said Mulder, stepping aside to show Scully sat on the sofa.

Scully stood up and, in spite of being dressed in the clothes she had changed into after her shower the night before, she pulled the blanket around herself. "I'd better go and get changed!" She said by way of excusing herself. She found the upcoming confrontation as appealing as Carter obviously did.

"Morning Agent Scully." Said O'Neill as he stood to one side to allow Scully to pass. He was surprised to feel a little guilty for waking the auburn haired Agent the way he had. He'd intended to aggravate Mulder with his knocking; he hadn't considered that Scully might be there as well.

"Good morning, Colonel O'Neill." She said as she slipped past. She nodded to Major Carter for her to follow.

Mulder closed the door after her and indicated a chair for O'Neill to sit. An uneasy silence settled on the room as the two men, neither willing to be the one to start the argument, sat and stared at the carpet or looked around the room, as though both features had contributed to the 'best motel room in America' guide.

It was Mulder who eventually broke the silence. "Can I get you a cup of coffee, Colonel?"

"Yeah, coffee would be great, thanks." When Mulder returned from the kitchen, he handed a cup to O'Neill who nodded his thanks and looked at him as he sat down again. "So, are you and Agent Scully..erm..?" He raised his eyebrows and gave a brief shake of his head, not sure how to, or even if he should, continue with the question.

"What?" Replied Mulder. It quickly dawned on him what O'Neill was getting at. "Oh, no, no! No we're not. Bureau regulations don't allow two Agents to.. er..!" He shrugged his shoulders. "You and Major Carter? Are you two..erm..?" The eyebrows went up again.

"No, no we're not." Said O'Neill looking at the floor again. Mulder thought he heard a slight tone of regret in the Colonel's voice, but didn't think it advisable to chase it. Then O'Neill looked up at him again. "Air Force regs, same thing!"

The uneasy silence came back with a vengeance. The TV was still on and still muted and now showed a group of Beavers in a river, swimming backwards and forwards with twigs and branches for their Dam. Both men watched it with a newfound fascination for silent nature programmes.

It was O'Neill who lost patience first. "Oh for crying out loud! Look Agent Mulder, it's obvious that your superiors have been on to you, just as mine have been on to me. Neither of us likes the situation, neither of us wants to be in it, but we are. We're just gonna have to make the best of a bad situation and deal! What do you say we just get on with it, get the job done and go our separate ways?"

As Mulder listened to what O'Neill was saying, a thought struck him. "Your General Hammond told you to assist in the FBI's investigation, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'll be taking orders from you Agent."

Mulder considered taking advantage of this new situation, but something in the back of his mind told him that, not only would it be stupid to do so, it would be childish as well. He heard Scully's voice telling him how disappointed in him she was, again, and decided to come clean. "You know Colonel, that's exactly the same as I said when I was told that the FBI's resources was to be made available to the Air Force."

O'Neill grinned as he sat back in his chair. He had to admit a grudging respect for General Hammond; he could always come up with new ways to get O'Neill to do just what he wanted him to do. He looked up at Mulder. "Truce?"

"Truce!" Replied Mulder. He finished his coffee and stood up to get a refill. "I think it might be an idea for us all to get together and trade information, Colonel. We might see things more clearly with a full picture. What do you think?"

"I think you should drop the 'Colonel' and call me Jack!"

Mulder paused on his way to the kitchen. "Ok! Just call me Mulder. No one, not even my parents, use my first name."

"Why, what is it?" Asked O'Neill as Mulder disappeared into the kitchen area. Mulder's head reappeared for a moment, just long enough to give a sardonic smile before disappearing again. "What?" Said O'Neill turning back to the silent TV. "What did they do, name you after an animal or something?"

Twenty minutes later, the two men walked out of the room to find Scully and Major Carter leaning against a black Camaro. "Nice car!" Said Mulder.

"It's Maybourne's. I think it's 'that' time of life for him."

"No blood, no bruises?" Said Scully.

"All the windows are intact too!" Commented Carter as she turned to the passenger door.

O'Neill looked at his second in command over the top of the Camaro. "Can we say 'Insubordination' Major?"

"Sorry sir." She said with a beaming smile.

When O'Neill looked at Mulder climbing into the back seat behind the driver, Mulder said, "I can't say anything, Scully scares me!"

They drove out of Chicago and, having entered the Illinois countryside, soon came to an abandoned airfield. It was the kind of airfield with a grass runway, the kind used by light aircraft owned by flying clubs, flying schools and the odd Cessna appreciation society. There were two hangars, a small control building and a visitors centre with a viewing platform, all in darkness and with a certain un-used air about them supplied by various broken and boarded up windows.

O'Neill drove to the nearest of the two semi-circular hangars, beeped the horn twice and, when one of the large doors slid open, drove inside. He waved at Teal'c as the Jaffa warrior began pushing the door closed once they had entered. He drove across the empty hangar floor. He told everyone to hang on and then threw on the handbrake, causing the loud shriek of protesting tyres to echo off the hangar walls. He gave an evil little chuckle as Maybourne's face appeared at the window of the hangar office.

Mulder climbed out of the car, still chuckling at the sight of Maybourne's scowling face, and followed O'Neill and Major Carter into the office. He found Maybourne, sitting down again, next to Daniel. Judging by all the books on the table, they had both been studying something and Mulder assumed it had something to do with the blocks of black marble that Daniel had found on the Southern Pride. A second table held pieces of electronic equipment and a laptop and it was to these that Carter made her way. Both Mulder and Scully breathed in the heady aroma of fresh coffee that suffused the room.

"Any of that coffee left?" Asked O'Neill of no one in particular.

"Sure Jack!" Said Maybourne quickly. When everyone turned to look at him, he pointed to the books on the table. "Boring! I don't understand anything they're saying. Coffee's all round?" He asked the newcomers. When they all nodded he disappeared into the kitchen.

By the time Maybourne came back with the coffee, Teal'c had just walked through the office door. Seeing that everyone was now in the room, Jack turned and said, "Alright campers, here's the state of play! We are now working for the FBI and the FBI is now working for the Air Force." He looked down at Maybourne. "And Harry is..Harry! There are no secrets as far as this mission is concerned, what one knows, we all know. Is everyone clear so far?" Nods of ascent all round. "Mulder has suggested that we all fill each other in information wise and I think that's a good place to start. I'll even get the ball rolling." He looked around at all the faces looking up at him from around the table and then turned to his right. "Daniel?" He said as he sat down.

Daniel looked at O'Neill without moving his head. He closed the book he had been reading and spoke as he turned to the two Agents. "Ok. I don't know how much you know about what we do or the different people we've encountered. Do you know about the Goa'uld?"

"We know a little about them, but nothing really significant." Replied Mulder.

Daniel gave the two Agents a brief appraisal of the Goa'uld and the SGC's encounters with them, including a few accounts of the Jaffa.

Scully looked at Teal'c. "And you're a Jaffa?"

"Indeed!" Replied the stoic Teal'c.

All attention turned to Carter as she spoke. "Teal'c was the first to openly rebel against the Goa'uld. Thanks to Teal'c, Teal'c's mentor Master Bra'tac and a few other, the Jaffa rebellion is starting to gain in strength."

"Once my people are free of the false Gods, we will ally ourselves with the Tau'ri for the common good. Never again will any of our peoples call anyone 'Master'."

"Here here!" Said O'Neill with a grin.

"Anyway," said Daniel with a sideways glance at O'Neill, "what this guy, Lee Firman..!"

"Krychek!" Interrupted Mulder. "His name is Alex Krychek, Lee Firman was just a cover name. We've had a number of dealings with Krychek before, he's as slippery as they come and won't be easy to catch."

"Well, we'd better hope we can catch him because he took a live Goa'uld in a stasis chamber and, subsequently, let it out."

"Alright Daniel, what have you found?" Asked O'Neill in the kind of voice a parent using forced patience uses when dealing with an over zealous child.

If he noticed, Daniel didn't show it. "I only have part of the block to work with, so the information is a little sketchy."

Mulder leaned forward. "Can I see that?" He asked, gazing intently at the black marble in Daniel's hand.

Daniel turned to O'Neill who looked back at him as if to say 'Of course, what did I just finish telling you?'. He handed one of the pieces to Mulder who sat and studied it, tracing the glyphs with a finger and touching the exposed golden lattice. "I can tell you that the Goa'uld that was inside it was called Buluc-Chastan."

"The Inca God?" Asked Mulder.

"Of war!" Said Daniel, surprise evident on his face. "The glyphs also say something about 'Hom Fir', but I have no idea what that might be."

Teal'c looked at Daniel. "Hom Fir'ket! It is living entombment, it is also a Goa'uld curse and punishment."

Daniel frowned. "I don't understand! Surely the Goa'uld is alive when he's put in the stasis chamber anyway?"

"The Hom Fir'ket chamber is a specially designed chamber. The Goa'uld is held in stasis, frozen and motionless, but remains aware of its surroundings."

"You're kidding? So, if Buluc-Chastan was put in this chamber two thousand years ago, he's spent those two thousand years looking at the same bit of wall?"

"And listening to whatever is going on around him, yes."

Daniel puffed up his cheeks and blew out the air slowly. "Well, I can pretty much guess where he's going to go now then."

"He will go after whoever cursed him with Hom Fir'ket." Said Teal'c.

"Agreed!" Said Daniel. He pointed to the piece that Mulder was holding. "According to that piece there, he's going to go after Anubis."

O'Neill leaned back in his chair. "Well, he's got a job on his hands there. Who's for giving a helping hand to good old Buluc?"

"You do not understand, O'Neill. Buluc Chastan will not stop at killing Anubis; he will destroy all that Anubis was, including slaughtering any Jaffa that bears the mark of Anubis. Millions will die."

Damn," said O'Neill with a grimace, "and things were starting to go so well."


	22. 16:05 Congress Heights, Washington DC

_16:05. Congress Heights, Washington D.C._

Krychek barrelled his way into the steady stream of traffic; mindless of the car behind whose bumper almost hit the tarmac as the driver stamped on the brakes to avoid hitting the red Mustang. The blare of a horn screamed the man's anger, but made no impression on Krychek as he headed over the Frederick Douglass Memorial Bridge.

The weather was dismal. Dark thunderheads broiled in the sky and a strong wind buffeted the nation's capital, streaming foam off of white-capped waves on the Potomac River and sending them sideways to give the people huddled in their coats a taste of the promised rain to come.

Once over the bridge, Krychek took the first exit he came to and drove with one eye on the rear-view mirror. Seeing that no one was following, he turned onto the road at the bottom of the off ramp and, after working out where he was, headed for the Congress Heights housing project. He made his way around the outskirts of Bolling Air Force Base and turned into Congress Heights near to where it bordered with Washington Highlands.

This was a part of Washington that rarely appeared on the TV screen. It was the kind of place where drive by shootings had ceased to be of any interest unless the number of victims rose to, at least, a handful. Where the gang wars depicted in the movies were an every day part of life.

There were fewer cars on the road here but a lot more pedestrians and people on cycles. Those people walking were all huddled under coats or umbrellas, trying in vain to protect themselves against the freezing wind; a wind that was further chilled by the Potomac and Anacostia rivers beyond Greenleaf Point.

Krychek soon found the alley he was looking for and turned into it, oblivious to a Woman leading two small children who was crossing as he turned. A strong gust of wind rushed down between the two tall buildings that formed the alley, drowning out the angry shouts of the Woman behind him and raising paper and other detritus out of the carnage of waste and filth that littered the alley, sending it swirling into the air. He moved slowly down the alley, peering into doorways and other nooks that had been further darkened by the oppressively gloomy day. Finally, satisfied that no one else was in the alley, he parked the Mustang by the side of an over-filled Dumpster and settled back to wait.

He didn't have that long to wait, as the man he was waiting for soon appeared and began making his way down the rubbish-strewn alley. He was a tall, lean, African-American man by the name of George Harrington III, who had long ago decided that his name was going to cause him more trouble than it was worth and had changed it to something that was 'more cool and streetwise', something that had a single letter in it somewhere and probably the word 'ice'. Krychek had heard the name once, laughed and then christened him 'Wiggy', due to his hair, which was bushy Afro on top and long dreadlocks on the bottom. The street name had long since been forgotten.

Krychek watched as Wiggy ambled down the alley, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of a woolly jacket that wouldn't have looked out of place on Starsky and Hutch.

Wiggy was a 'Provider'. If you wanted something, pretty much anything really, Wiggy knew where to get it and could provide it for a fee. Everybody knew Wiggy. There weren't many operatives from any of the agencies that hadn't had dealings with Wiggy at one time or another, yet he was one of the most elusive men in America. Wiggy was a ghost, almost an urban legend. He had no family, no friends as such, no social security number, no driver's license, no medical insurance. There was nothing, anywhere, to say that Wiggy, or George Harrington III, did or had ever existed. He ran his successful business without the use of a phone, either a cell phone or a landline, by always being at certain places at certain times of the day. No matter what happened, whether it be a Terrorist bomb or a natural disaster, he always turned up where and when he was supposed to. Krychek was one of the precious few people who knew where to go to find him, everybody else had to go through intermediaries.

Krychek had to admire the man for that. He had achieved what most other people, Krychek included, had not. He was invisible, yet everyone knew he was there. Just like a ghost!

The door of the Mustang opened and Wiggy jumped energetically in. He was about to say something but stopped when he saw Krychek. A frown creased his forehead. "God damn! What the hell you on, man? You look like shit."

"Good to see you too." Replied Krychek dryly.

Wiggy stared a moment longer at Krychek's drawn and sallow complexion, a complexion that emphasized the dark circles around his eyes and hinted at the skull beneath the flesh. "Whatever you on Bro, you need to give it a rest. It ain't doing you no good man."

The presence in Krychek's mind urged him to hurry, as impatient as ever, but Krychek fought to calm himself, and it, down. With people like Wiggy, things had to run their course. One hint of something out of the ordinary and Wiggy would be gone. The presence receded a little. "How's things with you Wiggy?"

"You know how it is man. Still duckin'n'divin. Same old same old."

"S.S.D.D?" Said Krychek with a grin and a nod of his head.

"So, what you in the market for man?" Asked Wiggy as he gazed out at the wind swept alley.

Krychek pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over. He watched as Wiggy unfolded it and scanned through the short list.

"Sweet Jesus, man!" Said Wiggy, turning to Krychek with a surprised, almost shocked, look on his face. "An 8.2 'Gigahertz' BDF module?"

"It's for a transmitter." Said Krychek, staring out of the window.

"Who the hell you talking to man, Voyager 1?" Wiggy looked back down at the list. "All right man, I can get these no problem! But, your BDF and the transponder pack are gonna take a little time, man. You want the power pack for the TP rig?"

"Yes!"

"What happened to that guy up in Baltimore? I heard he was supplying all your electronic gear for ya."

"I don't want the cheap 'made in Taiwan' gear."

Wiggy grunted and then briefly shook his head. "This little package ain't gonna be cheap, man."

Krychek looked at him as if to say 'It's me, Wiggy!'

"All right man! Anything else you need Bro?"

"I could use a place to crash for a day or two." Replied Krychek, his exhaustion shining like a beacon.

Wiggy put his hand into the pocket of his woolly jacket and pulled out two keys on a ring. "Ten ninety-three, over on Cleveland. You know where it is?"

"Yeah, I know Cleveland." Said Krychek, taking the keys.

"All right, the digs are F.O.C. man, just keep the noise down. I'll drop your package round there for you once I got it all together."

"Thanks Wiggy." Said Krychek as the man opened the door to leave.

"It's cool man!" Replied Wiggy as he climbed out of the car. He ducked back down and looked at Krychek. "And whatever you on Bro, leave it alone. You a mess man!" With that, he closed the door and walked off down the alley.

As Wiggy walked, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jacket, the wind gusted strong enough to almost make him stagger, roaring as it wrenched at his hair. He looked up at the tall buildings on either side of him. He wasn't sure if it was the noise of the wind playing tricks on him or if he had really heard someone scream. Hell, both were possibilities around here.

Behind him, the red Mustang slowly pulled out from beside the Dumpster.


	23. 09:47 Bollins Air Force Base, Washington

_09:47 Bollins Air Force Base, Washington D.C._

The Iroquois helicopter dropped out of the low grey cloud, circled the airfield once and then came down to land near the hanger heli-pad. As the Pilot reported their safe landing to the control tower and began shutting down the aircraft, SG1, Mulder, Scully and Maybourne all climbed out. As they headed towards the base's main office block, O'Neill turned back to the Pilot. "Prep the bird ready for leaving again, just in case."

"Yes sir." Replied the Pilot. "General Hammond has seconded me to you for the duration of your mission sir. I'm to fly you anywhere you need to go."

"Good. What's your name?"

"Major John Sheppard sir."

Ok Major Sheppard, prep the bird and then stand down. Just be ready to leave at a moments notice."

"Yes sir."

When O'Neill caught up with the rest of them, Mulder took him to one side. "Me and Scully are going to go to the hospital. I want to check in on Biers, see how he's doing, and see if we can get any more information."

"Ok, but do me a favour." Replied O'Neill. "The NID will know you're working with us, so watch your back. Oh, and Agents, come back here when you're finished. We may need to move fast and it's better if we're all together at the same place. We'll have quarters ready for you when you get back."

Mulder and Scully nodded there agreement before leaving. They caught a cab that had just dropped off a serviceman back from leave and travelled straight to the memorial hospital.

They found Biers sitting up in his bed with both his head and his chest heavily bandaged. He was in a room with three other beds, of which only one was occupied by and elderly man who was fast asleep. Around him, various medical machinery either winked or beeped with frustrating monotony. In a chair next to his bed sat Frohike who was looking only slightly less beaten and bruised than his friend. Frohike was the first to react when the Agents entered the room.

"Mulder!" He cried. "And the delectable Agent Scully." He all but jumped out of the chair and then brushed off the seat before offering it to Scully, who couldn't help but smile at the Gunman's chivalry.

Mulder grinned. "Good to see some things haven't changed." He looked at Biers and fought to quell the anger that he felt at seeing the man's injuries. "How you doing?"

"It hurts when I laugh." Replied Biers. When Mulder chuckled, he said "No, really, it hurts when I laugh. It's the ribs."

Mulder watched Frohike hand Biers' medical charts to Scully and asked "So what happened?"

"Someone tried to kill us." Said Frohike. "The official Police investigation said that 'a gas pipe in an old building ruptured and, when the heating came on, it blew'."

Scully looked up from the charts she was reading. "And you don't believe them?"

Biers leaned forward slightly, and winced as pain flared in his ribs, to look at Scully. "A lot of the equipment we used were heat sensitive. We never used the heating." He looked up at Mulder. "Ever."

Mulder nodded and looked around. "Where's Langley?"

"He had a phone call from a guy looking for some equipment," replied Biers as he gingerly leaned back into his pillows, "so he's gone on a supply run. He should be back any minute."

Mulder nodded. "Ok, look. I'm going to look into the explosion. I'll have all the Police reports and everything sent to my office and I'll find whoever did this. But first, I need to find Krychek. Have you guys heard anything, anything at all?"

Biers shook his head, but it was Frohike who spoke. "He's just dropped off the radar. We were tracking him and, POOF! Gone. We hadn't heard anything about him for a couple of days."

"Until now!" Announced a voice from behind them. They all turned to see Langley stood in the doorway. As he walked into the room, his face split into a wide grin. "I just supplied a friend of mine with a state of the art BDF Transmitter module and guess who the end buyer is?"

"Krychek?" Asked Mulder.

"You definitely hit your calling Mulder."

Scully leaned forward slightly. "What are these BDF things used for?"

Langley grinned. "They use BDFs on space probes for 'long' distance communications. He's building a transmitter, but God only knows who he wants to talk to."

"I don't suppose your 'friend' happened to mention where Krychek is, or where he would be making the drop, did he?" Asked Scully.

"Nope, and he wouldn't have told me even if I'd asked him. But I reckon he's close, here in D.C. at least. I caught a quick look at the shopping list and there's some big equipment on there. The kind that's very hard to transport."

Scully looked up at Mulder. "You'd better let Colonel O'Neill know."

But Mulder already had his cell phone in his hand. "Colonel O'Neill, Agent Mulder. We just got some information that Krychek has got a hold of a BDF transmitter… thing. Do you know…?" He paused for a moment. "Major Carter, hi. We just found out that Krychek has a BDF transmitter, do you know what he might be doing with it?" Again he paused while listening to Carter. "Yeah, we know that. Space probes use them. But why…?" He listened again and then turned to Langley. "What type of BDF?"

"Type four, eight point two gig frequency range."

Mulder repeated what Langley had told him and then listened again. "I don't know how he got it," he glanced at Langley, "just that he has it." Again he paused. "You can? Great." Pause. "Ok, we…!" Pause. "Ok, we'll see you later." He hit the red button and looked at Scully. "They can track it. As soon as he starts transmitting, they can track it and find out exactly where he is." Scully nodded her understanding and watched as Mulder turned to Langley. "What were you guys doing with a BDF module?"

All three Lone Gunmen replied in unison. "Don't ask!"


	24. 14:22 Bollins Air Force Base, Washington

_14:22 Bollins Air Force Base, Washington D.C._

O'Neill walked into the commissary and looked around at the few people who were in there. There were a few groups of people scattered around the large room, most were talking quietly while one or two were a little louder. He looked at one of the louder groups, three men, who had suddenly broken out laughing. Behind this group sat two men, a Sergeant and Mulder, who were both talking quietly. O'Neill grimaced and held up his hand, which he gently bounced off the counter before raising it again. He grabbed himself a cup of coffee and turned to find Mulder standing behind him.

"Hey, any word yet?" Asked Mulder.

O'Neill, who knew there had been no one behind him when he poured his coffee, had to pull himself up short and hold his coffee out to the side. He glanced at the table that, now, just had the Sergeant sitting at it, and back to Mulder again. "No." He said with a brief shake of his head. He indicated a large table next to one of the windows and the two men made their way over.

Mulder noticed that it was the same table that O'Neill and Dr Jackson had given he and Scully their briefing at five days ago and he thought back to that briefing.

_Daniel steepled his fingers together and looked at Mulder and Scully over the top of them. He glanced up at two servicemen as they walked past their table and waited for them to move out of earshot before continuing. "Look, I know it flies in the face of what you believe, but you have to understand that this is a military situation on a military base. No one on this base has ever heard of the Stargate Program. It's classified and for a very good reason. We need to keep it that way."_

_O'Neill took over. "Trust me, you have never encountered anything like the Goa'uld before. These Asgard you've been investigating, the Greys? They haven't devastated entire planets, enslaved or butchered entire civilisations."_

"_We don't know that for sure." Interrupted Mulder. "After all, that's what they intend for this one."_

"_Exactly." Said O'Neill, gazing intently into Mulder's eyes. "'We' do know it for sure. We've been to these planets, seen the aftermath. Those damn Snakeheads wouldn't think twice of pummelling this planet from space. They could kill every last man, woman and child on the face of this planet, and they wouldn't even have to land a single ship to do it."_

_This time it was Scully who asked a question. "I don't understand. If these Goa'uld are so powerful, what's stopping them from attacking us now?"_

_Daniel smiled. "There's the irony. These Greys you've been investigating, the ones we call the Asgard? Well, it's the Asgard that are stopping the Goa'uld. The Asgard are an even match for the Goa'uld, maybe even stronger, and they have a treaty between them. The Asgard can declare a planet an Asgard Protected Planet. Once they do that, if the Goa'uld did attack, it would be the same as declaring war on the Asgard. And that would go very badly for the Goa'uld."_

_Mulder looked from O'Neill to Daniel and back again. "Did it ever occur to you that the Asgard might be protecting this planet so they can invade it themselves?"_

_Daniel opened his mouth to speak, and then frowned and looked at O'Neill, who had turned to Daniel with a frown of his own. "Not.. until now, no." Replied Daniel a little uncertainly._

_O'Neill then shook his head. "No, I'm a pretty good judge of character. Thor and his buddies, they're on our side. We've proved ourselves to them, and them to us, a number of times."_

_Now it was Mulder's turn to gaze intently at O'Neill. "Then how do you explain our Greys?"_

"_I don't." Replied O'Neill calmly. "But that's where this little meeting comes in. You see, as I said, I'm a pretty good judge of character Agent Mulder. Participation in this mission requires you to sign the official secrets act, which I know you're not going to do. Agent Scully would, but not you. I haven't even brought it with me, I won't insult you by even asking."_

_There was a brief pause for Mulder to respond, which he didn't. So Daniel continued. "So, instead, we're going to offer you a deal. A basic 'you help us and we'll help you' scenario. Now, before you go jumping to conclusions, we can't take you through the Stargate. But we 'can' use our influence offworld to find out more about your.. your Greys."_

"_Any information we get," said O'Neill, "will be past on to you directly, the moment we get it. And, should this invasion happen? Well, let's just say that we have more friends out there than just the Asgard."_

_Mulder gazed at O'Neill. "And all we have to do...?" He left the question unfinished. Both he and Scully knew the answer._

"_What you're doing now." Replied O'Neill. "You can even write your official report at the end. You know as well as we do that it'll just get boxed. But you will have done your job."_

_Mulder puffed his cheeks. He knew, as did Scully who had also told him as much, that what O'Neill was saying was true. He would see the job through, he would write the report and he would file it. He also knew that it would go no further. He looked from O'Neill to Jackson and back again. "Do we get one of those cool jackets?"_

"Who's that guy?" Asked O'Neill when they sat down at their table.

"Mike Syler. I went to school with him, haven't seen him in years." Mulder looked at O'Neill. "Don't worry, I didn't mention what I'm doing here."

O'Neill shrugged. "I trust you Mulder. True, when we first met, I wouldn't have trusted you as far as Teal'c could've thrown you. But you're a man of your word and I have to respect you for that at least."

"Ouch," replied Mulder with a grin, "that must've really hurt."

"You have no idea." Said O'Neill, hiding his own grin by taking a drink of his coffee.

"Well, you know, I started out in the FBI as a Profiler. So I'm also a pretty good judge of character. I know how much your own sense of honour means to you. That's the only reason I agreed to do this your way."

O'Neill nodded. "I figured as much."

The two men sat talking for the next twenty minutes. For the most part, the conversation centered around the NID and it wasn't long before a correlation between the NID and a secret Government cabal of conspirators that Mulder called 'The Syndicate'came to the fore.

"So you think there could be a connection between this Syndicate of yours and the NID?" Asked Jack.

"It's reasonable to assume so. I've seen their operatives in action and, to call them 'Black Ops' wouldn't be a stretch."

"Kinsey." Said O'Neill, almost spitting the name. He leaned forward on the table and folded his arms together. "If this Syndicate of yours really are in the Government, and they are connected to the NID, then Kinsey is the link."

"Senator Kinsey?" Asked Mulder. "How do you know him?"

"A few years ago, Kinsey led an oversight committee that monitored the SGC. He's been a pain in our side ever since. If this Syndicate are the ones bringing the As… your Greys, to Earth, then they must have a back-up plan. They must have something they can hold over the Greys to ensure they keep their side of the deal."

Mulder thought for a moment and then shook his head. "If there is, I don't know of it. At least, not yet."

"Well, when you do, let me know." Replied O'Neill. "If it's a weapon, then it's probably something we brought back. If that happens, then we can grab Kinsey for treason at the very least."

"Not only that, but we can tie him in to the Syndicate. We could bring them all down." Said Mulder, his eyes bright.

O'Neill sat up as he saw Major Carter enter the commissary and rush over to their table. "Sir, we just received word from..!" She stopped and looked at Mulder.

"We're good to go Major." Said O'Neill. "Carry on."

"Yes sir." Replied Carter. "we just received word from the Tok'ra. They intercepted a message. Buluc has made contact with his Jaffa."

"Ok, did we get his location?"

"No sir, you don't understand. The message wasn't coming from the Earth, it was heading 'to' the Earth."

"Krychek's already sent his message." Said Mulder.

Carter nodded her head. "We missed it. I don't know how, but we missed it. The Tok'ra said that there are three Ha'taks on the way."

O'Neill stood up. "Dammit! How much time do we have?"

"No more than a couple of hours sir."

"Alright. Get Daniel and Teal'c and meet me at the heli-pad. Mulder, you go get Scully and I'll find Sheppard."

"Daniel and Teal'c have already been alerted sir." Said Carter.

"Ok, then get a hold of the SGC. Tell them we need to find where that transmission came from and we need to know 'now'."

"Yes sir." Replied Carter as she turned and headed for the door, closely followed by the two men.


	25. 1600, Bollins Air Force Base, Washington

_1600, Bollins Air Force Base, Washington D.C._

O'Neill ran from the office block and headed towards the heli-pad. He rounded a corner of the hanger and saw the Iroquois sitting on the pad with its rotors spinning and unhooked his P90 before jumping into the co-pilot's seat. "Ok major, get us in the air and head for Cheyenne Mountain!"

"Yes sir!" Shouted Sheppard as he twisted the throttle.

As the helicopter lifted into the air and headed South-Eastward, O'Neill turned to the people behind him and had to shout again to be heard. "Still nothing on the source of the transmission! We'll head back to the SGC, hopefully they'll have something for us when we get back!"

Mulder leaned forward. "But we know Krychek was around here! Going back to Colorado means going away from him!"

"I know! But with those Goa'uld motherships on their way, we need to get back to deal with them as well! Lesser of two evils, Agent Mulder!"

Carter, who was sitting with her back to the Pilot, turned to O'Neill. "Who's looking for the signal?"

"Dr Lee!" Shouted O'Neill. "So it's a safe bet we'll never find the damn thing!"

Five minutes later, Sheppard turned to O'Neill. "Colonel, SGC on the horn! It's General Hammond!" He tapped his earphones in emphasis.

O'Neill grabbed a second pair and put them on. "Sierra Golf Charlie, Sierra Golf One. Go ahead."

In his earphones, the unmistakeable Texan accent of General Hammond sounded loud and clear. "Colonel, Dr Lee has found an anomaly which he claims could be the source of the signal."

"Frankly sir, I'm amazed. Where?"

"In Northern Idaho, somewhere between Spokane in Washington and Missoula in Montana. It's pretty wild country up there Colonel. We'll narrow it down and get a grid reference to you asap."

"Ok. How did he find it sir?"

"It showed up as a seismic event. I'm not sure how he made the connection, but he did. I'm sending the co-ordinates to you now Colonel. Good luck, Hammond out."

O'Neill turned and told everyone else what Hammond had said. Daniel was the first to react. "The Tollan!"

O'Neill looked at him. "What?" He shouted incredulously.

"When we first met the Tollan, they used a communication device that sent a pulse! That pulse registered as a minor seismic event! Buluc must be using similar technology! Dr Lee did it, he found the source!"

"You and Lee had better be right about this Daniel!" Without waiting for a reply, O'Neill turned to Sheppard. "Do you have the co-ordinates?"

"Yes sir!" Replied the Pilot.

"How long?"

"Not long sir, it's not really that far!"

O'Neill gestured with his hand to indicate that they should go there now. Sheppard banked the Iroquois to the left and the pitch of the engine wound up as he coaxed more speed out of the aircraft.

No one really spoke much during the flight. Mulder asked Maybourne if he knew of any NID facilities in the area they were headed, but he said he didn't. Other than that, everyone was content to be left to their own thoughts as they watched the countryside pass by below them. By now, the area was quite barren. They could see various roads passing through forested hills, but the terrain was quite hilly and rocky with deep crags and high ridges, so communities were few and far between.

Suddenly, an intermittent buzzer sounded loud and Sheppard just had time to shout for everyone to hang on before he threw the Iroquois to the right. Something sped past the left side of the aircraft, leaving a trail of grey smoke behind it.

"What the hell!" Shouted O'Neill as he watched the missile continue on it's course away from them. He looked behind them and saw two black helicopters. "Two bogeys, five o'clock medium! They're Hughes H500s! Are we hot?"

"Over American soil?" Shouted Sheppard as he brought the Iroquois under control.

Carter leaned out the open door on her side of the helicopter. "Bogey number three, five o'clock low!" She ducked back in as streaks of light flew past the helicopter. "Tracer rounds! He's using guns!"

O'Neill, Teal'c and Daniel all grabbed their P90s, with O'Neill having to aim out of a small window. "Sheppard! Break left, now now NOW!"

Sheppard threw the stick over and manipulated the foot paddles, altering the angle of the rotor blades to throw the aircraft over to the left. As the aircraft banked over, the three men had to raise their aim slightly to compensate. Then they opened fire, just as the center helicopter opened up with its midi-gun mounted underneath. Just as the loud 'tat-tat-tat' sound of bullets striking the Iroquois could be heard, so a shower of sparks could be seen striking both chasing helicopters. The center helicopter broke first, darting to it's left as its pilot panicked. The center helicopter collided with its neighbour, just as it fired its second missile, slicing the tail boom in half and shredding its own rotors in the process. Ruptured fuel lines spewed fuel that ignited as wrecked rotors that were still spinning caused sparks as metal struck metal and the first helicopter erupted in a ball of flame, causing the second helicopter to also catch fire. Together, the two burning wrecks dropped out of the sky, trailing thick black smoke as they plummeted to the ground far below. The missile just missed the front of the Iroquois as the helicopter flew through the exhaust smoke of the weapon.

Sheppard swung the Iroquois back around to the right and dipped the nose, trying to maintain evasive manoeuvres. "Where's the third one?" He shouted.

Scully, who was hanging on for dear life in front of Carter, shouted, "Three o'clock high!"

Bullets ripped through the front canopy of the Iroquois, missing both O'Neill and Sheppard by inches. But these came from the left. Teal'c opened fire with his P90 as he shouted a warning. "There are more of them!"

"Of course there are!" Shouted O'Neill as he also opened fire. On the opposite side of the Iroquois came the sound of more gunfire as Carter opened up with her P90 and Mulder and Scully fired their handguns in a futile attempt to help out.

But it was too late, the damage had been done. The rounds that had just missed O'Neill and Sheppard had smashed the control console of the Iroquois and, as black smoke filled the cockpit and the Iroquois began to lose height, Sheppard could be heard shouting. "Not good! Not good! Hang on, we're going down!" As the nose of the aircraft dipped forwards, everyone could feel themselves being pushed to the side as the helicopter began spinning wildly out of control to the right. "They must've.. hit the.. tail rotor! I.. can't control it! Brace.. for impact!"

For what seemed an interminably long time, Sheppard kept the stricken helicopter in the air. With the black smoke obscuring almost all vision and the wild spinning disorientating them even further, all anyone could do was sit and wait for the inevitable impact. However, after what was, in reality, only a few seconds, it appeared that Sheppard managed to get some control over the helicopter. He had seen a small clearing that, if he could guide the stricken aircraft towards it, would give them a better chance of surviving the crash than hitting the trees. As he managed to almost pull it out of its wild spin, however, the helicopter hit the hard deck with a bone jarring impact.

For O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c, Sheppard, and even Maybourne, years of hard training came to the fore. Although still badly disorientated and shaken, they immediately escaped from their safety belts, grabbed weapons, packs and those without years of training and jumped out of the aircraft. Straight away they headed for the treeline, Carter and Maybourne pulling Mulder and Scully and Teal'c helping Daniel. The clearing wasn't very big and O'Neill, Teal'c and Daniel soon made it inside the trees and out of sight of any helicopters still flying around. However, just as Carter, Sheppard, Maybourne, Mulder and Scully were almost at the treeline, the ground heaved from an explosion behind them. The concussion from the blast threw them all forward onto the ground and they quickly scrambled into the trees to find cover from falling debris.

As the sound of the explosion and any falling debris receded, Carter ordered everyone to move and she led them deeper into the trees, away from the crash site. They had only gone a few yards when Sheppard shouted for everyone to get down as a hail of bullets slammed into their surroundings. "They can't see us so they're strafing the entire area! Everyone get next to a tree and stay down!"

Everyone did as they were instructed and it wasn't long before another hail of bullets ripped up the ground and the surrounding trees. Both Scully and Sheppard ducked reflexively as the trees they were crouched behind took extensive hits and Maybourne shouted for Scully to stay where she was, afraid that she might panic and make a break for it. But the auburn haired Agent held her ground and pressed herself back against the tree. A few seconds later, more bullets tore up the woodland, but this time further out as the remaining helicopters methodically worked their way away from the crash site.

And then there was silence.

Everyone looked up at the canopy of leaves above them, straining their ears for any sign of the pursuing helicopters, but there was none. Sheppard, still breathing heavy from the exertions of their escape, looked over at Major Carter and nodded his head.

Carter, also breathing heavily, nodded in response. She took out a compass and took a baring. "Alright, this way." She said and led them in a Northerly direction.

Half an hour later, they found O'Neill, Daniel and Teal'c who all looked none the worse for the crash and the subsequent attacks of the black helicopters. "Is everyone alright?" Asked O'Neill.

"Yes sir." Replied Carter. "A little shaken maybe, but good to go."

"Alright." He turned to Sheppard. "That was some damn good flying back there Sheppard."

"Thank you sir." Replied Sheppard.

"Could use a man like you at the SGC."

Sheppard looked taken aback by the comment. "Thank you sir, but I'm due to ship out to McMurdo soon."

"Good, so are we." Said O'Neill jovially. "Apparently, there's something out there that we need to see. Something cold, and old. And did I mention, cold?"


	26. 20:15 Somewhere In Northern Idaho

_20:15 Somewhere in Northern Idaho._

The group had left the wreck of their helicopter far behind as they headed through the forest in an Easterly direction. By now the grey cloud had begun to break and shafts of bright sunlight from the waning sun illuminated patches of forest as O'Neill led them along a ridge.

"How much further Jack?" Asked Maybourne from down the line.

"Why Harry," replied O'Neill without turning, "got someplace you'd rather be?"

"Don't we all?" Grumbled Maybourne.

O'Neill stopped and turned to face Maybourne. "What's the matter, getting tired?"

Maybourne held O'Neill's gaze with his own. "The Sun's going down, it's gonna get real cold up here Jack. None of us was expecting to be spending the night up here and we're ill-equipped for camping out in the woods."

"We'll survive. It'll just be like old times Harry, I'm sure Teal'c won't mind being your snuggle-buddy for tonight."

Harry looked at Teal'c, who had turned an unfriendly gaze on him. He was about to reply, then decided better of it.

O'Neill made to turn away and saw Sheppard at the back of the line, staring down the ridge. He looked in the direction the Pilot was looking and saw a small clearing at the foot of the ridge. He looked back at Sheppard. "Sheppard, what?"

Sheppard glanced over at O'Neill before returning his attention to the clearing. "Dunno, thought I saw something."

O'Neill quickly made his way over to where Sheppard was standing, closely followed by everyone else. "What'd you see?"

Sheppard looked at O'Neill with a raised eyebrow. "You'll think I'm Nuts."

"Try me." Replied O'Neill without looking away from the clearing.

Sheppard looked sheepish. "Well, I thought I saw sunlight glinting off some weird kind of… small metal pyramid."

O'Neill's eyes narrowed and he frowned. "T, what do you think?"

Teal'c gazed down at the clearing. "Too small for an Al'kesh, most likely a cloaked Tel'tak."

"No doubt fully loaded with Jaffa. How many?"

"Impossible to say O'Neill, but we will be heavily outnumbered."

"Great." Said O'Neill as he took out a cell phone. He looked at the screen and saw that he had no signal. "Anybody got a signal?" He looked around as everyone checked their cell phones and then shook their heads. "Well this day just gets better and better. Alright, everyone listen up. We have a live enemy on the ground of unknown strength and we need to get to the source of that signal before they do. Carter, you take point and I'll back you up. Then I want Daniel, then Scully, Mulder, Maybourne, Sheppard and Teal'c can bring up the rear. Move hard, move fast and stay quiet. Harry, that means no talking. Ok? Move out."

The only other communication came from the dirty look that Maybourne gave O'Neill which, if he even noticed it, he completely ignored. Away to the West, the Sun broke through the clouds, turning the edges of the thinning clouds a brilliant fiery red as it sank quickly towards the distant mountains.

By now, everyone had drawn their weapons and held them at the ready. Teal'c, with his ever-present staff weapon, had given his P-90 to Sheppard and Daniel had given his handgun to Maybourne in favour of a Zat.

The shaded forest floor was almost dark and everyone relied on their hearing more than their sight. They moved as quietly as possible, but it was impossible to be totally stealthy and, every now and again, the sound of snapping twigs seemed to reverberate through the trees.

After half an hour, O'Neill called a halt. "Ok, according to the GPS, the source of the signal is just up ahead. Carter, you and Sheppard scout ahead and see what's out there."

"Sir." Replied Carter as she and Sheppard hurried away.

O'Neill turned to the rest of the group, to Mulder and Scully in particular. "With respect, I don't know what level of combat training you've had. So, if things get hot, stay close."

Mulder raised an eyebrow. "Indifference to my Male ego aside, ok."

It wasn't long before Carter and Sheppard returned. "There's a large building about half a click due North." Reported Carter.

Sheppard added his input. "The building backs up to the trees, but there's a large clearing in front. Somehow I doubt we'll find a back door and there's no cover from the trees to the building. So whoever is inside is going to know we're coming."

O'Neill grimaced. "I shoulda sent Daniel, we never have this problem when I send Daniel. Is our guy in there?"

Carter shrugged. "There's no way to tell sir. There's no lights in any of the windows, but that doesn't mean no-one's there."

Mulder leaned forward. "How big is the building?"

Sheppard took a mouthful of water from a canteen. "It's a small complex, three stories high in one part but different levels in other places. It's a fair size but not too big for us to handle."

"Alright," said O'Neill as he stood up, "let's get on with this. We can use the cover of dark to get close to the building. Carter, lead the way."

Everyone stood up and followed carter through the trees. They had been walking only a few minutes when carter held up her hand for everyone to stop. Everyone stopped and looked around; trying to see into the gloom for whatever had alerted Carter. But there was nothing to see, the shadows were too deep in the failing light that cast the silent forest into near total darkness. And that was what had alerted Carter. It wasn't that she had seen something; it was that the forest was totally silent.

"Down!" Shouted O'Neill as the first staff blast erupted on a tree next to Daniel.


	27. 21:00 Somewhere In Northern Idaho

_21:00 Somewhere In Northern Idaho._

The deep twilight of the darkened forest was broken as bolts of light from multiple staff weapons rained in on the group's location. After the first blast had almost cut Daniel in half, everyone quickly dived for cover with O'Neill shouting for them to spread out. The group returned fire, using the staff blasts to locate where the enemy were.

"Save your ammo, only shoot when you know there's something to shoot at!" Shouted O'Neill from behind a fallen tree trunk.

"Colonel, even saving ammo, we're not gonna be able to hold this position for long!" Shouted Sheppard, ducking as a staff blast ripped a hole in the tree he was crouched behind. He leaned forward and fired a short burst with his P90 before ducking back again.

"Oh I don't know," replied O'Neill conversationally, "we've been in tighter spots than this before now, right Teal'c?" A hail of bullets churned up the forest floor in a line by O'Neill's feet, causing him to scrunch up behind the fallen tree trunk. "What the hell?"

"I am no longer certain O'Neill." Replied Teal'c. He quickly judged the direction the shots had come from and fired his staff weapon. From the light of the small explosion from the blast hitting a tree, they saw a group of black-clad men wearing black body armour and helmets. Once the light from the blast had dissipated, the black-clad figures became invisible in the darkness of the forest.

"That's a Black Ops team, where did they come from?" Asked Maybourne from next to Sheppard.

"The helicopters." Replied Scully as she fired her handgun twice. "They must be from the helicopters that shot us down earlier!"

"United States Air Force!" Shouted O'Neill. "We're….!" More bullets slammed into the tree trunk and forest floor near O'Neill's location. "Son of a…!" Said O'Neill as he closed his eyes from the flying debris kicked up by the bullets and a staff blast erupting on the tree trunk. "Forget what I said earlier about tight spots."

"Yep, this one's up there." Said Daniel as he fired three shots with his Zat. He was surprised when one of his shots found a black-clad target.

"I'm open to suggestions at this point!" Shouted O'Neill as he fired a quick burst at the Black Ops team and another at the Jaffa.

Teal'c ducked down and crouched besides O'Neill. "O'Neill, if you can get close to the Black Cops team and fire at the Jaffa, I will get close to the Jaffa and fire at the Black Cops. Maybe we can get them to engage each other in combat instead of them all engaging us."

"Black 'Ops' Teal'c, 'Ops'. And good thinking." He leaned forward a little. "Carter! You, Mulder and Scully keep those Jaffa busy. Daniel, Sheppard and Harry, keep those Black Ops down until we get in position. Everybody ready? Go!"

Everybody moved as one. Carter, Mulder and Scully all fired simultaneously at the Jaffa while Daniel, Sheppard and Maybourne opened up on the Black Ops team's general location. O'Neill lunged forward and dived into the undergrowth behind his team and angled himself towards the Black Ops location. He soon found a position close to, at least, one of the black-clad figures who was returning fire on the group.

Teal'c jumped up and sprinted behind Carter, Scully and Mulder. He too angled his course to bring him close to the Jaffa. He ducked down behind the thick bole of a tree. "Jaffa!" He shouted. "Kel nok! Shal kek, chan'te tok nol, Kree!" Then he fired his staff towards the Black Ops to show the Jaffa their location.

O'Neill took a gamble. "Alpha team! New target! Three o'clock, two hundred meters, fire!" He opened up at the Jaffa and was relieved when the Black Ops team responded by also opening fire on the Jaffa, bringing two of them down in a shower of sparks as their bullets tore through the steel rings of the Jaffa's armour. With staff blasts now being directed towards the Black Ops position, he wasted no time in getting back to his team and arrived at the same time as Teal'c.

"Nice. That should give them something else to think about for a while." Said O'Neill. A staff blast slammed into the ground on the other side of the tree trunk, sending debris up into the air to rain down on O'Neill and Teal'c. O'Neill frowned and narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the falling loam and leaves.

Maybourne ducked down behind the tree and ejected the empty magazine from his handgun before reloading it with a full one. "It did kind of work. It's now a three way fight, so at least we don't have to worry about 'everyone' shooting at us."

O'Neill looked over the trunk at the battlefield. Harry was right, both enemy forces were now split with half engaging one target and the other half engaging the other target, and vice versa for 'the enemies'. He sat back down again and thought for a moment. He leaned forward and looked at Carter. "Carter?"

"Sir?" Replied Carter.

"You and Sheppard take one magazine each and leave the rest of your ammo here. Take Mulder and Scully and the four of you get up to that complex and grab Buluc, or Firman or whatever he's calling himself!"

"Colonel," replied carter with a concerned look on her face, "we can't leave you here facing all these!"

"She's right sir." Said Sheppard who was closer and didn't have to shout. "Splitting and reducing our forces against overwhelming odds really isn't a good idea."

"Sometimes the bad idea works Major." Replied O'Neill. "Besides, if we take away their reason for being here, I'm willing to bet that they won't stay. And, with them fighting each other as well as us, our reduced force can hold them here long enough for you to go in and snag the prize. Now, Majors, get to it."

Sheppard looked at Carter and when she took out her spare mags and fitted a full one to her weapon, he followed suit. Mulder and Scully both tossed their spare mags for their handguns to Maybourne. As Carter and Sheppard, keeping as low as they could, both headed off into the trees closely followed by Scully, Mulder said "Good luck." before following his partner.

Slowly, the sound of battle receded as the small group quickly made their way through the darkened forest. After a couple of minutes, Carter turned to Sheppard and signalled for him to hold back and make sure they weren't being followed. When Sheppard nodded his agreement, Carter moved on with Mulder and Scully close behind. By the time they made it to the building, the noise of the battle they had left behind was almost non-existent.

Carter crouched down next to a thick tree trunk and looked at the building before them. There was a clearing of approximately five hundred meters between the edge of the trees and the building. The clearing had once been a well tended lawn but the grass had been left to grow now and the edge of the lawn, which had at one time been kept for various flowers and other decorations, was now left to grow wild. From their position, it looked as though the clearing extended around the back of the building as well. The building itself had grey walls, black windows and looked like something out of a Tetris game. Five stories high at its highest level, various blocks seemed to finish at various levels with flat roofs, as if the architect had run out of ideas for each block part way up. The main entrance was up four semi-circular steps and was covered by a thick stone block held up on four steel posts. There was no lights in any of the windows, no sign of life and no cover between the trees and the building itself.

"Place looks deserted." Said Carter to no-one in particular.

Mulder looked off to the right of the clearing. "That's never a good sign." He said in reply to Carter's comment. "There's a road off to the right." He indicated the road with his gun.

Carter nodded. "Ok, we'll have to move fast and keep low. Hopefully we can use the darkness as cover. Everybody ready?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Sheppard?" Asked Scully.

"I'm here." Said Sheppard from behind the three of them. When Scully started and turned to him, he shrugged apologetically. "I can be very quiet when I want to be."

Carter made ready to start her run. "Move on my command."

"Whatever happened to going on 'three'?" said Mulder quietly.

"Go."


End file.
